#YOONGI AU

[teenietinytangerine]

[itssunshinetoday]

❁ pictures you've taken of your boyfriend, Yoongi

More of the boyfriend pictures series

[jeonjcngkook]

clandestine | myg (m) teaser

pairing: gangleader!yoongi x f!reader

genre(s)&au(s): gang au, bitch better have my money or i'll fuck ur girl au, angst, pwp, smut

rating: 18+

word count: teaser - 405

warning(s)&smut warning(s): strong language, mentions of weapons, threats of murder

summary: bloodthirsty and dangerous, yoongi wont stop until he gets what he is rightful owed. and if you're on offer, then he just cant say no to that.

banner: @kth1 | @kth1fics

note: hehehe...

“Sir, over here,” you overhear someone whisper — probably having heard the snoring from above you.

The sound of heavy duty combat boots picking up pace and heading straight in your direction makes you still. You don’t move an inch in fear of getting caught, placing a hand over your mouth to keep your breathing at bay.

From underneath the bed, you count five pairs of boots. They move slowly around the bed surrounding you in a circle. Two of them make their way to the side of the bed where Hee-won lies and another two direct themselves to your side of the bed, vanishing behind the comforter that you had pulled down earlier.

The remaining body doesn’t move from the bottom of the bed. Instead, you watch on as he pulls out the chair from underneath the vanity; the scraping of the chair legs against the floor is like nails on a chalkboard causing you to hiss at the sound.

He sits down in the chair and spreads his legs too casually for someone who is breaking into an apartment which can only mean he has done this many times in the past. He’s calculated and smart — knows how to play the game.

The room is silent.

Nobody talks and nobody moves.

Your eyes frantically dart back and forth between their legs, watching for any movement…but nothing. The sound of a large heavy bag being dropped to the floor makes you jump in terror, your body hitting the framing of the bed.

Someone had to have heard that…

Your body chills at the thought of being caught; who knows what awaits you outside of your hiding spot. Who knows what these men are capable of.

You’re able to make out someone shushing those around him and you watch as the man who is sitting in the chair eventually gets up and walks over to the side of the bed to join the other two where Hee-won lays.

One of the men bends down in your peripheral vision as his leather gloves starts to unzip the bag, emptying the contents all over the floor. The sound of metal on metal hitting against each other is deafening in the small bedroom. You watch as guns, knives and an array of other weaponry is scattered in a small pile on the floor.

“Where is she?” You hear who you presume to be the leader of the home invasion ask. “She’s supposed to be here. I swear if this fucker has touched her, I’ll bury him myself.”

[jiminrings]

fail-safe (3)

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 14k

glimpse: you hear everything you've ever wanted, but you don't know if it's too late.

alternatively, yoongi is consumingly yours all the time.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

[ still angst (but u can breathe now bc it’s the finale), brother’s best friend AND single dad au, jealousy, yearning from all angles, did i say angst alr (mom-wise and brother-wise), fluff, redemption ]

notes: this is it for the chronological series of fail-safe :-) from the bottom of my heart thank you so sooooo much for reading n loving!!! sharing fs with the lot of u is an experience (and era) i'll never forget!!!

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! | series masterlist

Your trip back home isn’t as rough as you expected it to be. 

Somehow, there’s a huge difference between coming home alone and coming home with Jungkook. There’s an irreplaceable weight in your chest that still flares even at the mention of Yoongi, the anger you have towards him mixing with the trepidation of holding everything in you, not just him, for another three days. There’s an angry rash around your fingertips just waiting for you to pick on your nails until they’re raw because atleast in that way, you get to forget the way Yoongi’s hand picked up yours in the dark.

There’s an ache in you that not even Yoongi and Hyewon could undo by never having met in the first place. It’s long been there, perhaps even older than Haneul. The ache of unfulfillment in you is bred by everything significant in your life — all from your first argument with your mom because of your lack of direction in life, to your latest heartbreak that keeps manifesting into your first ever.

You're no longer angry recounting the fact that you weren't destined for greatness. Namjoon turned out beyond great, world-renowned even, despite living in the same home that you did. Maybe it's not your environment or your lack of a passion that hindered you — maybe, it's just you alone.

Maybe, some part of you had ached too much from reaching (read: loving) too far up, you're doomed to live the rest of your life unfulfilled. Yoongi's never been yours, but the way your heart withdraws from him is as if he's always been.

You've done your share. You've completed your fill. You've worked yourself to the bone to make anything (not something, and certainly not everything) out of yourself that even if you're not decorated in sports like Namjoon nor celebrated in music like Yoongi, you have a fail-safe to fall back on.

You're earning more than the white collars you could recognize from your old yearbook and even if it's to look after someone, to look after Jungkook and his craft, and neither use your actual degree nor make a name out of yourself — a part of you feels fulfilled.

If being fulfilled meant being in the shadows as a manager; if it meant caring for someone in a professional context yet in a way you've always known with practice, with love, through the years– you'll take it.

You'll take the peace of being fulfilled without a trophy than to be listless trying to compete for first place.

You're fulfilled now to be sitting at the passenger seat of your own car because despite having never been to your place anymore, Jungkook fought with you in order to get his hands on the wheel.

You're fulfilled now, even if you only took Jungkook's silly suggestion (read: insistence) of fake-dating him just so you wouldn't have to face your family and Yoongi alone. You're fulfilled despite having no real place in neither men's lives.

Oddly enough, Jungkook wants to be both. He wants to be fulfilled and compete for first  place in a position in your life that he can't even say to your face.

Jungkook holds you right in the middle of the living room, his eyes wide and grin sparkling as if the director had already said action! and the task for him was to act out what being in love looked like, right in front of his female lead's family in her childhood home. (Read: he isn't acting at all.)

“And he’s…?” your mom lets the question hang in the air, eyes trailing from Jungkook’s face, to his bicep, to how his forearm fits snugly against your back and his hand curls around your waist. Your mom visibly looks surprised, although you don’t know if it’s about the fact that you actually came back despite everything, or if it’s because her favorite actor is in her kitchen while she’s sweaty in an apron, or if it’s because said favorite actor leaves no space between the two of you.

“Jeon Jungkook, ma’am. It’s nice to finally meet you,” he greets politely, a little jittery now that he’s face-to-face with her. He’s only heard of the woman she is from you and as much as he tried to picture her from memory, your stories don’t do her much justice. Jungkook’s always loved your kind eyes and your sweet smile, but he knows now where you’ve got it from; in fact, if he turns around right now right after shaking her hand and bowing profusely, you’re showing exactly those to him — that, along with a pair of gazes he can’t place.

Those gazes aren’t kind at all. One is confused and dumbfounded, and the other harbors nothing but hostility and anger.

“Sweetheart, I know you. Who doesn’t?” your mom’s at a loss for breath, mouth still agape as she keeps flickering her eyes between the two of you. She knows that you’re his manager, but what she doesn’t know is why the Jeon Jungkook is in her humble kitchen of all places. He has the most expressive and sincere eyes ever — he can’t possibly mistake your childhood home as a filming set and your waist as a hand rest.

You finally placate her thoughts when you speak, the loaded silence between the three of you (it’s buzzing with tension if you account for the other two) breaking. You actually giggle, your laughter taking the load off her shoulders because you’re happy; you don’t feel an ounce of guilt even if you’re lying to her face. 

“We’re dating, mom,” you grin. “Jungkook’s my boyfriend.”

Jungkook smiles automatically, feeling your hand snake towards his own. His palm’s much bigger than yours yet it’s warmer than you’ve ever imagined, the envelope both of your hands make putting you at ease.

Your mom’s gasp bounces across the walls. Namjoon’s head that’s only been lowered the entire time you’ve been back suddenly whips to look at you and Jungkook. The fridge even lowers its hum to make way for the theatrics aimed at you, yet your eyes are fixed on your mom’s and Jungkook’s alone.

You came home for her and with him. You’re not here for anyone nor anything else because it’s merely a play for your survival, only this time, Jungkook’s hellbent on increasing your odds.

Yoongi freezes evidently, hand tightening around Haneul’s bottle as if it would do anything to release the red from his vision. He staggers silently, breathing suddenly ragged as he stares down at the offending steel cylinder. It’s small. Compact. If anything, he figures it would hurt if he were to throw it at anything. Anyone. Someone, even.

“Wow, that’s.. that’s amazing!” she embraces the both of you, making you and Jungkook share a gaze you only laugh through because he actually looks honored.

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m sorry I haven’t had the time to let you know personally,” he apologizes meekly for a mistake that isn’t even one in the first place, the humility in his tone making your ears perk. It’s Jungkook onceagain with the apologies towards you that he shouldn’t be making at all, and yet, even in front of your family, he persists.

Jungkook apologizes even for the things he hasn’t done, not because he plans on doing them, but because a large part of him wants to be in the actual situation wherein those mistakes were merely possibilities.

“It’s no problem at all. You’re busy getting all these awards, I know how that’s like,” she jokes, unable to stop smiling. “I’m just glad someone’s taking care of my baby.”

“And I don’t plan on missing a single day, ma’am.”

“Stop that,” she chides, shaking her head eagerly. “You can call me mom.”

Yoongi lets the bottle clatter to the sink.

( ♡ ) 

Yoongi hadn’t been able to sleep last night.

He’d woken up in a cold sweat hours before his alarm was supposed to go off to cook dinner for everyone, even if it was only yourfavorite. The anxiousness that bubbled in his veins when he was asleep was going to burst and while Yoongi thought nothing of it initially, he realizes in panic that it was actually pointing to something. 

He woke up next to Haneul and he was placated momentarily, but the knot tied around his heart tightens twofold when he sees Hyewon on the same bed.

On your bed.

The guilt that filled Yoongi then was enough for the bile to creep up into his throat, making him stagger outside to find Namjoon pacing right outside of his own bedroom. His personal phone’s tucked in between his ear and his shoulder, his hands preoccupied scrolling through whatever it is on his work phone. Yoongi momentarily stops his panic to inquire why the hell Namjoon’s panicking and why did he just see a glimpse of your social media accounts pulled up to the screen, your following list staring your brother in the eyes.

“What? What happened? Is it Y/N?”

Namjoon only looked at him with nothing but pity and guilt, the resentment he had for himself bleeding through the way he shifted his gaze to him.

“She saw you and Hyewon.”

Yoongi hadn’t been able to sleep since.  

He didn’t even blink when Hyewon thanked him and said her goodbyes. He wasn’t even fazed when his ex-wife kissed Haneul goodbye and his son only resumed playing with his blocks. Yoongi hadn’t even tended to himself throughout the entire night, surrendering himself to be awake in your couch in the far event that you’d come home.

Yoongi wanted to follow you home, except almost exactly similar to the past, he had chased you out of what’s supposed to be your own home in the first place. The difference now was that he didn’t mean for Hyewon to be on your bed at all, let alone your room, but in the back of Yoongi’s thick skull — he figures that it won’t be enough for you.

Yoongi waits for you all night throughout the morning like a loyal dog waiting for its master, his chest rising up and down in hope yet his chin down in despondence. You do end up coming back home though, but your presence is neither unaccompanied nor for him.

With you is Jeon Jungkook, your boyfriend.

If only Haneul hadn’t asked for his bottle to be brought upstairs because he’s watching cartoons on Yoongi’s laptop, he would’ve collapsed on the floor then and there, uncaring of the way everyone else would be looking down on him.

If only Namjoon’s gaze wasn’t flitting to him to gauge his reaction because it’s the first time he’s, or by everyone else rather, hearing that you have a boyfriend, Yoongi would put his hands on his head and curse until his piercing migraine suddenly disappears.

If only your mother wasn’t here, frozen in the kitchen mostly because of what you just revealed and who you came home with, and partly because she’s waiting for him to finish washing Haneul’s bottle, he would’ve thrown up right in the sink.

Yoongi gathers all his pain and keeps it shut within himself until he gets you alone, catching you by the staircase when everyone else has dispersed.

“I’m sorry. Namjoon told me what you saw and-…” he stops himself when you look up at him with an innocent yet empty gaze, the weight of it (or lack thereof) startling him. “Let me explain why Hyewon was there in your bed.”

“I don’t want to listen,” you enunciate clearly, keeping your voice down because both Jungkook and Haneul are a few steps away. You do it for their sake and not for Yoongi’s, the bitterness in your chest physically restricting you to think about his state.

Yoongi pushes on, breath already catching in his throat when you’re still stiff as a stone. You haven’t even made a break for it yet; he only unconsciously held onto you out of fear that you’ll be out of his sight. “She was in the area because her parents are old and they don’t know much about selling their house here a-and well, she knows that I did the same for my parents when they sold ours. Nothing happened. I just helped her with the sale! S-she was playing with Haneul in the living room while I napped a-and, I just… when I woke up, they were right next to me. Y/N, I swear, nothing-…”

You shake your head fervently, the innocence of his reason doing little to break the seal in your stomach. You feel it dropping once again and even if Yoongi’s right, even if he’s saying the truth, the sight alone of him appearing to be a part of a happy family jogs up all the pain.

“I don’t want to listen and you don’t have to explain either.”

“But I hurt you. That’s why I want to explain,” he stutters. Yoongi’s eyes are so glassy, you could see your reflection in them.

“Oh. So you know,” you whisper, teeth harshly digging into your bottom lip. “I hate Hyewon for a lot of things but not for being the mother of your child. That’s out of my reach. I get it. She’s his mom and that’s that,” you admit, the vacancy in your chest and on your ring finger reminding you what Yoongi had never given you the chance for. “What I hate is that you let her sleep in my room. Seeing Haneul in there is good. You and him? That’s okay because I let you sleep in there,” you heave, voice close to breaking because of how you force it to be tamped down. “I hate how you let her sleep in my room, Yoongi. I-I, I fucking hate it because it’s just like that time I caught you practically fucking her in my room.”

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t-…” Yoongi sniffles, tears already pouring. The staircase in your house is far too narrow to hold the both of you, let alone your history. “I didn’t think. I didn’t notice, a-and, I didn’t think. I didn’t think at all, Y/N. I thought it was okay for a split second because we looked like-…”

“A family,” you finish for him. “I get it. I do,” you nod your head fervently, your own hand snaking to your lips to stop the sharp inhale that pains you from the inside. “Almost everyone loses their sense of reason when it comes to family.”

“I didn’t notice she already entered the room. But I-I woke up,” Yoongi still swears up and down, adamant on his truth that you aren’t open to entertaining because he’s hurt you far too many times before. “Hyewon and I… we’re not. We’re co-parenting.”

“Still a family.”

“But-…”

“What the hell do you want to hear from me, Yoongi?” you snap, voice finally toning down when you notice faint footsteps coming from the second floor. “Do you— do you want me to agree with you and say that the three of you aren’t a family? And for what, s-so that could somehow excuse you for everything you’ve done? I don’t even know what family’s supposed to mean at this point!”

From upstairs, Namjoon suppresses a sob.

“My mom doesn’t know a single thing about all of this. I-I can’t even cry to her because I’m thinking of you. I’m thinking of protecting you, your son that she looks to as a grandson, a-and even your mom who’s her best friend,” you break into tears, ignoring the baby towel that Yoongi keeps on his person all the time that he offers to you. You sound far too defeated, and maybe you actually are, that Yoongi lets you push past him. “Meanwhile, my own brother probably knows everything but his first instinct is to protect you. Not me, his actual sibling. You.”

.

.

.

Namjoon had been waiting for you upstairs. He’s been barricading the door to the bathroom because he knows you can’t go to bed without your nightly shower, and because he knows that out of every space in the house, it must be the only one left wherein you can be truly alone with no hint of Yoongi.

“We have to talk,” he gets out as soon as you make eye contact with him, the towel that’s slung on your shoulder almost falling at the urgency to which he pulls you aside.

“It can wait.”

“I need to apologize,” he pleads once again, gripping your wrist gently like he had always done when you were kids to get you to listen to him.

“And I said it can wait. I can’t stand you right now,” you grit, the tears on your cheeks barely being dried up when Namjoon, unsurprisingly, decides to apologize to you within the same timeframe as Yoongi. They hadn’t planned it at all — the guilt and remorse weighed far too heavy for them to actually communicate.

“Where will you sleep?” he asks instead, exhaling heavily because you’re insistent on not crying again in barely your first night back, again. “Where will Jungkook sleep?”

“We’ll sleep together in a hotel.”

“Hotel?” Namjoon asks loudly, eyes bulging in shock. His voice is far too loud that everyone in the house (and maybe even your neighbors) must have heard him. “That’s nonsense. This is home, Y/N. You don’t have to book a hotel.”

“It is?” you seethe, your closed fists tightening on themselves painfully. “Did you also say the same thing to Hyewon? To Yoongi in the first place?”

“It’s my fault for-…”

You’re unaware that you and Namjoon are neck to neck until your mom chimes in out of nowhere, her gentle eyes asking more questions than she’s actually uttering. “What’s going on?” she switches her gaze between you and him. “Are the two of you fighting?”

“No,” you answer in unison, unable to fit a relieved sigh in between the terse silence.

“It’s nothing, mom,” Namjoon puts a hand on your shoulder, his smile tight and tense. “I was just telling Y/N that she doesn’t have to book a hotel.”

“Why would you book a hotel?” she gasps incredulously, her tone being the exact copy of Namjoon’s just a second ago.

“It’s just crowded in here, mom. That’s all,” you muster a sheepish smile, your posture slouching the more you realize that there’s no way out.

“I can ask Yoongi and Haneul to transfer to Namjoon’s so you can-..”

“No-!” you interrupt her in a hurry, breath hitching at the mention of him. “No, no. That’s unnecessary. I don’t want to sleep in my room.”

There’s a loaded pause between all of you, even between the door that Yoongi has his back on as he listens in.

“You and Jungkook can take my room instead,” Namjoon insists, his offer only barely scratching the surface of the apology that you truly deserve.

“Great. Thanks,” you conclude, already halfway into the bathroom when the sudden thought strikes you, your curiosity (and limit, by extension) getting the best of you to ask Namjoon while your mom’s still here. “How… how much longer are they gonna stay here?”

“I… haven’t asked yet,” Namjoon admits, the animosity you have towards Yoongi not going unnoticed by your mother.

“You need to ask then,” you quip. “This house is too small to have everyone and anyone.”

( ♡ ) 

Jungkook woke up in peace from sleeping in a bed that isn’t his.

Even before you actually got to shower (and not just sit on the toilet seat whilst trying to compose yourself) since you forgot to retrieve your clothes from your suitcase, Jungkook was already starfished in the middle of Namjoon’s bed. It’s a touching sight atop your own blanket and bug spray that your brother put in for you.

The two of you are far from okay. As a matter of fact, the only people you’re truly okay with in the house is your mom and Haneul; despite knowing that fully, Jungkook still dived in head-first in the middle of your situation. You’ve tried to dissuade him all throughout the five-hour long car ride, and not once did he even budge.

He’s here for you and no one else. He’s snoring in the middle of your sibling’s bed whom you aren’t in good terms with. He’s at ease with you in a province that he’s never stepped foot in, all because he felt compelled to protect you somehow and wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

Jungkook cares for you, enough to write a note and place it beside him just before he went to sleep, telling you that he’s a messy sleeper and to either jolt him awake to move or just manhandle him to the side so you could also sleep on the bed.

You go for the latter, trying to pry him as gently as you could (but even if you just hauled him like a sack of potatoes, he still wouldn’t wake up because he’s at ease too much; it’s you, of course) before finally calling it a night.

You may have lied awake mulling over the perpetual ache in your chest, but you didn’t cry at all.

Eventually, you fall asleep to the sound of Jungkook snoring.

.

.

.

Jungkook may have slept earlier than you, but he makes sure that you stay in late. (read: he physically tucked you into bed so snugly, you probably can’t even shift your shoulders by a centimeter). He wants to pull his weight around a house he hasn’t even been in, even if you hadn’t asked him to — you’d never do, because even as a manager and not as a fake-girlfriend, you don’t let him lift a single finger. Simply put, Jungkook feels this massive pull, not to perform for you, but serve you.

He finds himself quietly going down the stairs, still in his socks because you had stolen his house slippers just last night and he doesn’t have the heart to ask you to give them back. He’s quickly figured out the kitchen, getting a soup started before he allows himself to sit on the dining table by himself.

It turns out that Jungkook’s not alone at all.

“Hi.”

His ears perk at the soft voice that comes from the side of him, eyes immediately setting on the toddler who’s still dressed in his pajamas and has a similar case of bedhead to him.

“Hey buddy. Nice bangs,” Jungkook chuckles invitingly, pulling out a chair for Haneul to which he gets up on easily by himself. 

“My appa cut them for me,” he answers with a smile, shyly pointing to Jungkook’s forehead with an eager finger. “You have bangs too. Who cut yours?”

“My girlfriend. I think she can be a hairstylist one day,” he hums, not feeling guilty over lying to him when it’s only a half, easily-corrected lie. You may not be Jungkook’s actual, real girlfriend, but you did cut his bangs when he asked you to. He couldn’t be bothered going to the salon and you didn’t have the energy to argue with him otherwise, so that’s how he ended up with choppy, viral (it only became viral because he has them) bangs that gained him a few dozen articles or so.

Jungkook doesn’t have kids of his own, but what he does have are several nephews and nieces. He’s the youngest of four children, and that’s perhaps the reason why he could empathize with you. He’s never been through what you have, and although you would never wish for him to do so, a part of him wants to know what it’s like — not because he seeks the pain, but because he wants to know how he could empathize with you better

With Jungkook being Jungkook, it’s perhaps the reason why he’s one of the gifted few people who could strike up a sensible conversation with a toddler and make them laugh without doing anything at all.

Something about Jungkook makes Haneul laugh so loudly, he wakes up almost everyone in the house in peace. Even Jungkook’s attempt at lame jokes tickle Haneul more than the way Namjoon’s ever tried in earnest to make him laugh.

You’ve already slinked past the two of them on the dining table, tending to the soup and the few hundred side dishes Jungkook started on but paused just to talk to Haneul.

“Haneul, don’t believe your uncle-…” you chime over a playful dig that Jungkook makes in your expense, the giggles that had only been filling your ears just seconds ago instantly ceasing when you notice Yoongi standing near you.

“Uncle?” he raises his brow at you, turning his attention to his son. “Haneul, what did I say about talking to strangers?”

“But he’s not a stranger. I saw him in that movie!” he frowns, the immediate awe that slips out of Jungkook’s lips not helping his case in the slightest.

“Still a stranger,” Yoongi smiles tightly, his exhale dragging out as he mulls over the eerily domestic sight of the three of you.

“But he’s Uncle Kook,” Haneul reasons with him, pointing his finger at you. “He’s auntie’s boyfriend.”

.

.

.

Yoongi’s softened a little bit since breakfast.

He was never mad at Haneul in the first place (more like halfhearted because he still stands by his lesson of not teaching him to talk to strangers, even if they’re a worldwide-famous actor, but those are not his words at all) but what he is annoyed about is the scene that he walked into.

It looked far too natural for you to look like Haneul’s mom and for Jungkook to look like him, maybe even better as a dad despite not having children at all, that he thought he was seeing red.

Haneul’s lying on his shoulder as they rewatch Bluey for the second time in the living room, the shadow of your alleged boyfriend walking past him until he registers the accent, later doing a quick turnaround that makes Yoongi ultimately irritated and Haneul more than happy.

“Oh cool. I love Bluey!” Jungkook says sincerely, inviting himself to sit on the lone sofa chair to watch the episode.

“Wow, you’re just so… quirky,” Yoongi mutters under his breath with a roll of his eyes, his snarky remark making Jungkook’s ears tingle. The latter scoffs slyly, making him finally acknowledge Jungkook, albeit sarcastically. “So what do you do, Jungkook?”

Even before he could answer though, Haneul does it for him with an excitement that only comes out whenever he’s talking about his favorites.

“We watched his movies in the cinema, appa! Remember?”

“Did we?” Yoongi narrows his eyes, playing his huff into a cough. He repurposes the tinge of embarrassment that he feels into snark, running a hand through his hair cockily. “I’d for sure remember an actor if they were good.”

( ♡ ) 

“Where’s your brother? I need him to do the heavy lifting.”

Your mom asks you with an urgency that parents only past the age of forty could possess, her lips already parted awaiting your response towards a question she asked just two seconds ago. 

Even if you weren’t engrossed on an episode of Bluey (Jungkook and Haneul put you into it and you get their laser focus now) just now, you still wouldn’t know about your brother’s whereabouts. Yoongi saves you this time, his response piquing both yours and Jungkook’s interest.

“He’s in practice. Joon took Haneul with him so he could learn too.”

Jungkook looks up from his phone sharply, eyes wide in eagerness. He and Yoongi haven’t even looked at each other since yesterday yet their coordination (read: competitiveness) syncs with the other at the exact second, their insistence on tagging along a menial task making you jolt.

“I’ll come with, mom!”

“I’ll come with, auntie.”

It’s not a competition, yet Jungkook jumps up to stand so quickly, his head almost brushed the ceiling. “Let’s go, babe,” he holds out a hand for you, making you clear your throat as you’re still trying to gauge the situation.

“But what about Yoongi? Poor thing, he’ll be left alone,” your mom awes, her pout only deepening when Yoongi pretends to look crestfallen at being overlooked. He doesn’t have to pretend that much because despite not being the biggest fan of grocery-shopping, especially in your area because it always smelled of eggs despite barely carrying any eggs, he’ll jump at any task to impress your mom, and you by extension.

“I don’t think you should worry-…” you start, already being interrupted in an instant.

“Oh come on, Y/N. Two pairs of hands are better than one! They really have to do some heavy lifting because I forget to tell you about that one time your aunts hounded me for-…” she trails off while telling you a story about your supposedly huge extended family, blissfully unaware that there’s two men fighting to open the door for the both of you.

Yoongi’s driving his car as the most spacious option, making Jungkook snicker under his breath as he blames himself for not bringing his SUV which is clearly more expensive than whatever Yoongi’s driving, even if you elbow him lightly by the ribs because you didn’t ask him to do that.

“Mom, what are you doing here? Go sit in the front,” you nudge her, unwilling to sit next to Yoongi in an enclosed space.

“Oh, right! Sorry, I was just used to you always taking shotgun whenever Yoongi’s driving,” she squeals, fondly clapping to herself as she revisits the memory. “Do you remember that, sweetheart? You’d always fight with Namjoon because Yoongi got his license first.”

It may only be your mom who’s leaning against the center console to look at you in the back, but it doesn’t mean that Yoongi’s ever taken off his attention from you.

“I remember,” Yoongi smiles, looking at you from the rearview mirror. “I never forget.”

.

.

.

The grocery store hasn’t changed one bit. 

It still smelled of eggs, the lights still aren’t as bright as they should be, and there’s still trinkets that you’ve always been swayed by being displayed near the register.

You’re taking it all in after not having been back for five years, whereas Yoongi strolls right in, but never ahead of you, as if he’s visited multiple times already since he left your town. 

Your mom and Jungkook are side by side as he asks her a question you can’t even discern, only getting to know his actual agenda when you hear his sneakers skidding against the floor as he runs towards the pushcarts. 

Yoongi, without even knowing the full context, runs after him because he didn’t want to come in second place for whatever it is that Jungkook’s challenging him to.

“I’ll steer the cart,” Jungkook presents definitively, his hand raised mid-air as if he’s being graded for eagerness alone. He looks like he wants to prove himself even if it’s only you and your mom present; no director, no producer in sight who sizes him up. 

“No. I’ll do it,” Yoongi argues out of nowhere, his bruised hands reclaiming the cart under Jungkook’s grasp. He’s not even looking at your mom because his gaze is only fixed on Jungkook who’s just two tugs away from actually spitting at him.

“I said it first,” your pretend-boyfriend forcefully pulls the hunk of metal away from Yoongi, the latter coming along with it for the briefest of seconds before he does the same, this time with Jungkook gasping.

“What, are you method-acting for your next role as a cart-steerer?” 

Your mom’s a little perplexed at the scene before her, lips parting in both concern and amusement because for a pair of people who haven’t met each other before, Yoongi and Jungkook are oddly competitive. They want to provesomething, anything, and maybe everything so bad, they neglect the fact that they look ridiculous fighting over a pushcart. 

“We actually need two,“ she says to no one in particular, thinking out loud as she goes through her grocery list. “I think maybe even three because-…”

“I’ll get it,” Jungkook rushes out in panic, almost bumping into you in the process. You were only gone for a minute to retrieve your phone from the car and yet he already looks breathless, the knot between his eyebrows untangling when he realizes that it’s you. “Oh. Sorry, babe.”

“I’ll get it, Koo,” you murmur, catching the tail end of what your mom said about the pushcarts. Jungkook’s cheeks are tainted pink in frustration and you can’t help but to be concerned, the back of your hand already flitting against his forehead before you know it. “Are you okay? Sorry, the AC in here is not like the AC in the city.”

“Huh, what? Oh no, it’s okay. I just got into this heated cart argument,” he waves you off, eyes rapidly moving between you, your mom, and Yoongi who’s mirroring his exact actions, except for the glaring hint of annoyance with the way he’s standing so close to you.

“Cart argument? What’s-…”

“We need meat.” 

You barely even have a chance to digest what Jungkook’s saying to you before you see him glitch right in front of you in a hurry, the only words to register clearly in your mind being your mom’s. She’s absent-mindedly talking herself through her grocery list (as she always does) and yet the two men right next to her hang onto her every word, the speed they take off on giving you no clue to why they’re acting as such.

“I’ll get it, auntie!” Yoongi gets out even before the wheels of his cart could cooperate, momentarily tripping over himself. Jungkook sputters at that, the laughter that builds in his throat being interrupted because he realizes that the other guy is ahead of him and he simply cannot bear that. 

“Beef. We need beef, right, mom? How many kilos. Like… ten? Okay. I’ll get it!” Jungkook dashes even if he’s never been in this grocery store before; even if your mom hasn’t said a single word to either of them.

You’re left dumbfounded in the middle of the store, your gaze unable to locate the distinct sounds of both of their sneakers skidding against the floor. 

“I didn’t even say anything,” your mom mutters in confusion, eyes flitting to you with a wonder you can’t place because even if the both of you are lost, she seems to have a better idea than you do. “Are they… competing over you, sweetie?”

“Competing? Me? Why would you even say that, mom?” you huff, leaning against the cart as you snatch her list to get the things she’s actually looking for.

“I don’t know,” she lulls, shrugging carelessly before nudging you. “Jungkook’s your boyfriend and well, I assume Yoongi’s always wanted to be in his position.”

“How did you even come to that conclusion?”

“Small town. Few people. Cute girl, cute guy,” she places, the end of her hypothesis being accompanied by a chuckle. When she says it like that, it sounds far too easy — it sounds far too seamless, you almost wish it was exactly that. “I didn’t even take the news that Yoongi was going abroad seriously because I thought it was a joke. I thought he could never move on from here or Namjoon,” your mom pouts, tilting her head when you freeze. “Much more, he could never move on from you.”

“He did,” you answer through gritted teeth, the grip you have on her list making the paper crumple underneath your hold.

Your mom doesn’t know everything. In fact, you don’t even know if she knows anything at all. You don’t despise her for her lack of involvement because you want to keep her from the chaos of your burdens, and you’ve always wanted to keep it that way.

But the way she speaks now, so full of conviction and faith, you find yourself despising it. She speaks as surely as the way Yoongi speeds past the both of you, weaving through aisles to get items she didn’t ask for, competing for and against a higher power (read: you) that Jungkook himself seeks. 

She says it so surely, it’s as if she knows about every waking thought that Yoongi’s ever had in your absence.

“It doesn’t look like he did.”

You ponder over your mom’s adoration for Yoongi, most of which you can’t decipher if it’s misplaced or not. You know he’ll always have a special place in her heart and in her home because she’s known him even before he was born because she’s best friends with Mrs. Min. 

Yoongi has a place in your life, no matter if it’s in your own or in the lives of the people you love. He probably has a modern penthouse in Namjoon’s life, the decoration in it improving over time. On the other hand, Yoongi probably occupies an ancestral cabin in your mom’s life that’s been well-maintained for longer than he’s ever been alive, the decor in it being handmade and resilient through the years. 

In your life, however, you can’t tell how and if Yoongi occupies it in the first place. For the longest time, his place in your life had come in the form of a mansion that not even a single architect nor engineer could ever think of. For a moment too, Yoongi’s place in your heart came in the form of a little house on a vast farm overlooking the mountains and the sea. Throughout all the houses that Yoongi’s shape-shifted to in your life, you doubt now if he could ever turn into them again.

When you think of Yoongi, all you see is your room. 

When you see Yoongi, all you could remember is your childhood house and its shortcomings in your life, especially when you needed to come home to it— to him, the most.

“I’ll pay, mom,” Jungkook snaps you out of your reverie, his whine making your ears ring.

“What? No, Jungkook. This is all too much,” you refuse vehemently, trying to fight him from extending his black card any further.

“It’s not. This is for your family anyway. I, I might have even grabbed extra portions for myself because mom said she’ll repeat tomorrow what she did for lunch today,” he grins, momentarily losing himself to the sight of you that he doesn’t even notice he’s in the process of being one-upped by Yoongi.

“Jungkook, baby, I’ll feel-…”

“I paid for it, auntie,” Yoongi announces, making your lips part and Jungkook’s jaw drop.

“You shouldn’t have, Yoongi,” you scold him softly, a whine already building at the back of your throat but he waves you off easily. Your mom’s thanking him profusely in the background, and while Yoongi’s pleased with the attention, his gaze remains on you.

“But I wanted to,” he insists, pursing his lips. “I should.”

“You’re not family,” is what you want to say.

“But I want to be,” is what he wants to scream.

Wordlessly, Yoongi puts a plastic toy ring he bought from the register into your bag. It’s pink and it’s star-shaped, its mold still the same from all those years ago.

.

.

.

You barrel into your mom’s room just to see Namjoon.

You bit at the chance of giving him the stuff he’s asked for from the grocery as per your mom, taking advantage of her focus on organizing the groceries downstairs to have a one-on-one with your brother.

“You have to make Yoongi drive into the city tonight. Either that or he flies to the US. The reunion is already tomorrow,” you seethe, crossing your arms as he sighs in defeat.

“It’s already late. Yoongi’s driving with Haneul, a kid, alone,” he emphasizes, running a hand through his hair as he himself is troubled by you being in a bind over everything. “And he can’t book a flight back on such short notice.”

“Short notice? What, did he just happen to book a one-way flight and not a round trip one?” you snort in amusement, shaking your head in disbelief. The thought actually cracks you up because out of the three of you, Yoongi happened to be the one more adept to websites despite your limited materials back then. Namjoon remains silent, and with how serious he looks, your face falls.

You can’t believe Yoongi at all.

“He did? You’ve gotta be kidding me, Joon,” you groan, throwing your head back. “What, does that mean Yoongi gets to stay in our home while we’re in this godforsaken family reunion?”

Namjoon delivers yet another blow, his revelation making you more enraged than the last.

“Mom invited them.”

“What? Why?!” you exclaim, chest rising in frustration. “Yoongi’s not family, Namjoon. Atleast not for me.”

He doesn’t miss your added remark at the end of your sentence, the underhandedness of it making him look down on the floor. 

Namjoon feels guilty, he really does, but he can’t seem to make it right. He couldn’t even fight you in insisting to apologize that night.

For each day that you try to delay the inevitable of confronting him and letting him taking the fall, of letting him apologize, Namjoon feels more like a big failure for an older brother than he already is. 

“But he used to be,” he says under his breath, looking up at you with a stubbornness you can’t place. “Your lifetime versus those five years — which one amounts to more?”

( ♡ ) 

Everyone gushes over Jungkook.

In an altitude higher than the mountainside that you’re in now, the aunts, uncles, and cousins you didn’t even know you have squeal over your fake boyfriend. By the fifth relative, you’ve already got your routine down of letting them hug you and kiss your cheek before holding Jungkook’s bicep, acting as his bodyguard to make sure they don’t squeeze him too hard or not at all.

“Oh my god, Y/N. Jeon Jungkook is your boyfriend?!”

“I knew it, I knew you were gonna have a partner who’s famous! I dreamed about it when you were-…”

“If that’s your boyfriend, then who’s he?” your cousin (?) whispers to you, cutting himself off as he turns his gaze to Yoongi and Haneul. They’re most certainly not your family, meaning that they’re unrelated to everyone present, so what your relatives (some more nosy than others) can’t wrap their heads around is the fact that there are strangers in your family reunion.

It takes one, two times for your mom and Namjoon to explain who they are and what they’re doing here in the first place, the chorus of nods eventually signaling that they’ve moved on. Some of them could even recall Mr. and Mrs. Min from the neighborhood, and Yoongi could only nod.

It’s not that he doesn’t belong right now — he actually feels the opposite. Yoongi feels that he has a place amongst a barrage of relatives he’s not affiliated to by neither blood nor paper, and it pains him; not because he’s scared of belonging, but because you probably don’t think the same way.

Haneul runs to him underneath the umbrella he’s isolated himself at, his son grasping an assortment of cash, food, and juiceboxes Yoongi most certainly did not pack in Haneul’s backpack from the night before.

“Auntie’s family is really nice, appa. Look what they gave me,” he shows everything that his hands could carry, breathing heavily in excitement as he explains that your relatives told him to come back once his hands are empty.

“Oh dear. They really think you’re adorable,” he laughs, pocketing Haneul’s cash (he swears he’ll give it back) and hiding some of the snacks he’s been given so he wouldn’t give himself heartburn eating too many at once.

Yoongi’s smiling from ear to ear, sitting Haneul in his lap as he overlooks the view of your town from above. Everything looks so small and delicate, you’d almost think none of what laid downhill ever even mattered. He didn’t get views like these in New York. 

Yoongi didn’t get people like you in New York.

“Mama’s family isn’t this nice,” Haneul speaks out of nowhere, his thoughts uttered out loud directed more-on to himself than it is for his dad. Yoongi stops in his tracks in trepidation, shoulders tensing over what his son just said. “They never play with me like this. Not like auntie.”

He knows Hyewon’s relatives, albeit not that well. Her family members in the US were not this kind, not this warm, even to a child who’s actually related to them.

Yoongi’s stuck in his thoughts the whole time Haneul sips on his juice, finally being snapped into his reality nowwhen you approach their direction. His son waves at you excitedly even if you’ve just crossed paths minutes ago.

“Here, Haneul,” you hold out a container to him, the gentle smile on your face limited to only him yet Yoongi, for a lack of grace, pretends it’s also for him. “I tried my best to make it look like Bluey,” you chuckle, pointing to the mini sculpture made out of the marshmallows and blueberries that your relatives set aside for him.

Haneul beams at you, thanking you profusely. If only he wasn’t sat on Yoongi’s lap and therefore grounded, he would’ve launched himself at you to hug your legs.

Yoongi takes the hat right off his head, putting it on you while you’re crouched next to his son.

“It’s hot,” he explains, his heart continuously speaking beats the longer that you linger beside Haneul and the longer that he giggles in excitement. “I know you get headaches easily.”

( ♡ ) 

Despite being reachable, Yoongi still yearns for you.

He yearns for you even if you’re only within arm’s reach, sitting near you but never close enough at the long table because with you, he feels safe. He laughs in the background like it’s a sitcom to every joke and every episode of banter thrown around him. He doesn’t feel out of place with your family — he feels out of place with you.

He’s never been a wickedly jealous type. Even when he and Hyewon were still together and she cheated on him, Yoongi felt more resentful than he was jealous. He didn’t feel this type of way; he didn’t feel inferior. He didn’t feel like he was nursing a loss in his life because he has no choice but to. Yoongi had managed to divorce Hyewon because it didn’t work out between them, and that was that.

Yoongi can neither divorce you nor pull away from you because you’ve never been with each other. He harbors no resentment for you and that scares him, not because he wants to hate you so badly, but because he feels as if everything you’ll do to him, he’ll take it.

Yoongi will take it even if you set a plate for Jungkook despite unconsciously forgetting what he’s always disliked eating when you were still kids. He’ll take the serving tray from your hands still, uncaring if eating the tiniest bite of the food you’ve passed gives him an allergic reaction because you were the one who offered.

He’ll take it even if you hold Jungkook’s bicep in a hurry when there’s a bug that’s getting awfully close to your drink. Yoongi would walk to where you sit and dispose of it wordlessly because even Jungkook himself is scared of bugs. He doesn’t mind if you don’t thank him, because atleast now when he looks at you from a distance, you’re sitting in relaxation and you no longer have to hold your boyfriend.

He’ll endure the jealousy that burns through his throat more than the poorly-made, highly-alcoholic vodka your uncle made himself. He’ll hold onto the poison that is yearning and how he’ll feel like his throat would close up because if you were still young, in this setting of free rein, except you were still in love him like you used to be and he’s in love with you like he is now, neither you and Yoongi would be hurting.

Yoongi will take it. He’ll take the nothing that you give him and give you the everything that you don’t ask for anymore.

Five years versus the rest of your lifetime that you spent being in love with him is only miniscule. The suffering that he’s going through now is only a speck of the years you’ve spent in an unrequited love.

Unlike you, Yoongi’s weak. If he were to say it outloud to you, you’ll never agree because you’ve never regarded yourself otherwise. You’ll go on this tangent that you’ve always been weak, influenced by the times that Yoongi had chastised you for your lack of a passion. 

To you, Yoongi had been right in a way.

To Yoongi, he’s always been in the wrong.

He’s crying to you now that the both of you are alone, overlooking the small town he used to be keen on getting out of. Now, more than ever, Yoongi wants to stay in it. He wants to stay with you.

“Why is everything with you so hard?” Yoongi whispers, his tears stinging badly from the corner of his eyes to the point that he can only make out shapes. He’s unkempt and frantic as if his life flashed before his eyes and there’s nothing he could do about it, voice strained like much of the times he’s drank himself to sleep.

He resembles Haneul at the moment. He’s always had because there’s not one bit of Hyewon in his son’s features or personality, but he looks especially like him now that he’s crying. The back of his hands harshly dig into his face, sobs bursting right from his throat. “Why do I make everything so hard for us? Why can’t I— w-why can’t I make it right for once?”

There’s a tremble to your chest that you ignore earnestly, the presence of it enough to scare you because it’s familiar; too familiar. Seeing your past play out in front of you in the form of a seemingly content family sleeping on your bed is one thing, but it’s another to see its patriarch crumble in front of you. It’s different to see your past pleading in front of you for just the slightest bit of your attention.

As a matter of fact, it’s different now because you resemble Yoongi the most. 

“You never tried,” you seethe, jumping the gun before you even try to decipher what’s in the barrel. It’s a bullet you fire haphazardly that comes from your pocket that you’ve always held onto. It’s a misplaced, misshapen, old bullet that you force into a gun that Yoongi passed onto you.

Right now, Yoongi doesn’t resemble Haneul, and neither does he resemble his ex-wife. 

He resembles you with the way his eyes are clearly swimming in hurt while you avoid looking at his, just to relieve the painstaking feeling of guilt and longing compacted into a sob.

“I never tried?” Yoongi exhales shakily, his quivering hands running through his hair to tug on them.“I never tried?”

You hear yourself clearly even if it’s his voice. The tremble and the anger, even all the way to the blind hope.

“I kept trying to reach out to you every single time. Every single birthday, every single Christmas, every insignificant holiday I could search up!” Yoongi cries — he actually thrashes with the way he sobs, shoulders shaking violently. “I didn’t try? If I didn’t try, try looking at every page of my passport to see all the stamps there are whenever fucking Jungkook was reported to be in another country,” he spits his name like poison, the vitriol behind it, however, never catching up to what he feels about himself.

You resemble Yoongi the most because you stand untethered, eyes blurring and lips quivering, yet you only watch him lose himself before thinking of uttering a single word.

“I’m selfish, I’m an asshole, and I’m fucking insufferable. I can’t even apologize to you correctly,” Yoongi lists, chest rising up and down too heavily, he feels like it’ll give out. “But I love you, Y/N. I-I might be every bad thing in your life right now and I own up to that. I’m still trying to be the best for you.”

Not only does Yoongi resemble you — he’s actually become you.

“You can call me the vilest names ever but you can’t say that,” he grits, teeth chattering not from the cold he’s put himself in, but because he can’t stop mentioning your name in between. “You can’t say I never tried because I always have. I’ll never stop becausethat’s what it takes,” Yoongi mutters; because, he says, not if.

“I love you,” he says it far too clearly for someone who’s drunk; far too sincerely for someone who had spent the better part of his life putting it through your head that he can’t return your affection. “I’ve always loved you.”

( ♡ ) 

You don’t feel good.

There’s a fever that’s starting to bloom from the base of your skull all the way to your toes, the abnormal warmth you feel in your chest making you unable to interact with everyone else outside of your room. Jungkook had left with your uncles before dawn to go fishing in the nearby lake and never would you think to inconvenience him; to tend to someone like you for something as minor as a fever, or for anything at all.

You already have a system down for taking care of yourself when you’re ill. It started when neither your mom nor your brother were home with you, and it was finally perfected when you had to live completely alone in the big city. All you had to do was gather all the energy you have, spend it at the start to get everything you could possibly need and put them all at the side of your bed, and rest until everything no longer hurts.

The major flaw with your system now is that you don’t have the energy at all. You can’t build up the strength to get up, walk across the hall and interact with your relatives, and rummage through groceries to get what you need without being questioned; you can’t build up the sense of importance you have for yourself to ask for help.

Namjoon comes into your room before you could dance around the idea of asking him to get you water, all because he has this innate sense of guilt in him and you could utilize it to your advantage. Your brother gets ahead of you before you could even register that he’s here with you, his eyes sullen and pleading.

“Can we talk?”

“I can’t exactly storm off right now,” you rasp, your voice fading out into a low chuckle.

“Do you want to talk when you’re able to storm off?” he asks sincerely with a small smile, his hand fixing your hair as gently as he could without making your migraine ring further. “If you do though, then you probably might never hear me out again.”

You stay silent because he is right, but Namjoon feels otherwise. He feels as if he hasn’t been doing anything right at all and you existing separate from him is a constant reminder. His career is at its peak but he thinks he could go higher; his relationship with you is deteriorating and he doesn’t think it could possibly be worse.

“I’m sorry for being a shitty brother,” he apologizes, the first thing out of his mouth being the last thing that floods his mind before he goes to sleep at night. “I should’ve never defended Yoongi, even Hyewon by extension.”

The heat behind your eyes isn’t all from your fever. The tears that prick your eyes aren’t because of the pressure in your head, but because of the fact that you haven’t heard Namjoon apologize to you in a long time; you haven’t talked this sincerely for even longer

“I should’ve put you first,” he sniffles, muttering apologies in between his pauses for finding the right words that would make it okay; that would somehow undo all that he’s been an accomplice to. “I should’ve been this reliable, sturdy man of the house. I-I should’ve been more of a father figure to you-…”

“Don’t,” you interject sternly. “You never filled in his shoes and you should never will. You’re only mom’s son and my brother, Namjoon. It’s never been your job to raise me.”

Even after everything, there’s a gentleness to you that Namjoon’s always loved but hate the most now. He hates that even if he’s the one who’s apologizing, you’re the one who’s saying sorry for the things you didn’t even inflict on him. Neither of you wanted to be raised by only a single parent, yet you absolve him of the guilt he’s always felt.

“But I could’ve been better. I wish I was already better from the start.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think how hard life was for you growing up. I-I would’ve given up football if only-…” he trembles, unable to get the last of his sentence out because you shake your head in earnest.

“Stop.”

“But I mean it. If only I-I didn’t get into football, I could’ve been there for you and mom much often. I could’ve been better and-...”

“But I grew up to be okay, didn’t I? You’re the best at what you do. We’ve managed to retire mom early because we put in the work,” you whisper, the shrug of your shoulders feeling more heavy that it should feel because the words don’t come out easily from you. 

“But okay shouldn’t have been enough for you,” Namjoon tears up, bottom lip trembling as you try to take in his words that you’ve always wanted to hear at the back of your mind; you hear them now when you’ve already grown up. You hear them now after you’ve already endured the grief. “I— we should’ve given you the fighting chance to grow up more than okay.”

.

.

.

It’s not Jungkook who comes to visit you while you’re nursing a fever, because you’ve temporarily banned him from the bedroom. He only pouted in complaint when you called him, but he didn’t fight you that much either because you’ve called him out for the excitement in his voice to go hiking for the first time.

It’s not Yoongi who comes to visit you while you’re nursing a fever, because Haneul asked him to teach him Go (he’s not even that good at it and being the ever unable to show incompetence and have pride especially when Jungkook’s watching father, he discreetly asked lessons from your mom) so he’ll be able to play with your cousins.

Instead, it’s your mom who visits you. Even if Namjoon hadn’t tipped her off that you were feeling under the weather, she’s already had a feeling this morning.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” she asks, her hands full of everything you could possibly need and more before plopping them at your side. She makes you sit up even before you could complain, handing you a drink with some medicine you didn’t even know she carried

“Just a little fever,” you answer, getting back into your cocoon. 

You don’t even attempt to make conversation because you fear that you don’t have it in you to have a heart-to-heart talk with your mom just minutes after you’ve had one with Namjoon.

You don’t even say anything to her except your thanks. Namjoon didn’t even tell her about your conversation, even if he approached her with tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes while saying that it was just allergies.

Your mom feels the guilt spring to her chest even if you don’t utter a single word. She feels the remorse in her eyes when you don’t ask her for anything more. She feels the guilt the most in her hands when you don’t ask her to stay.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like there wasn’t enough space for your burdens growing up.”

“What?”you scramble to get up in a seated position, eyes hazy from how quick you do it. “Mom, you scared me. Where’s this coming from?” 

She shakes her head at your cluelessness, eyes stinging when you genuinely look at her innocently. You don’t know what she’s talking about, even if the thought has plagued her for so long.

“You’re not really okay, are you?”

“It’s… just a fever,” you mumble, your breathing already trembling at the way she looks at you.

She’s looking at you like you’re still a kid; ever so fragile and innocent, it’s as if she wouldn’t let a single thing in this world harm you. She doesn’t know a single thing about your feud with Namjoon and your long drawn-out conflict with Yoongi. What your mom does know is that she doesn’t know a single thing about the heartbreak you suppress, and that thought alone makes her hiccup in tears.

“You’re right, you know? Our house is small,” she says, distinctly recalling the tensioned conversation you had with Namjoon back at home. “It’s tiny but it was far too big for you growing up alone,” she inhales sharply, trying not to sob in front of you. “He wasn’t in the picture. I was working a hundred jobs left and right. Namjoon was trying to make a name for himself,” she shakes her head, so much so that the necklace she’s had since you were children, the same one with yours and Namjoon’s birthstones on it, rattles. “I’m sorry for making you feel that you can’t come to me.”

In just a full day, you’ve heard everything that you’ve ever wanted. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted during the school plays where you had no one from your family, except Yoongi, to watch you become an extra up on stage. He’d always deny that he did show up for you and just say that it’s because he was genuinely interested in a play about a poet he didn’t care about in reality, but you take it nonetheless.

It’s everything you’ve ever prayed for watching Yoongi live a life far too advanced for you as he held Hyewon’s hand after school. It’s what you wanted to hear when you begged him not to leave you behind.

“I-I’m okay. I’m really-…” you stutter, looking away before your tears fall in the fear that they’ll never stop.

Your mom only hugs you tighter.

“I’m here if you want someone else to carry your burdens,” she whispers. “I’m here now.”

( ♡ )

It’s the last day of the reunion when you fully recover, and it’s hours ahead of everyone when Jungkook has to leave by himself.

Without even asking for it, Jungkook grants you another week’s worth of break. You didn’t even plan on asking, yet Jungkook’s willing to give you a month if only you do. 

You’ve already arranged for his personal driver to pick him up and take him back to the city. You’ve already packed his bags, along with the multiple containers of food that your relatives (and especially your mom) insisted for him to take. You’ve arranged for your substitute to take care of him for his schedules throughout the week, along with the insistent reminder to call you whenever Jungkook needs you. (Read: he does, with or without a schedule.)

Everything is set for Jungkook to leave except for his driver who’d been roped by your mom to be filled with breakfast first, yet with the remaining minutes left, Jungkook’s still with you on your bed. 

He lies on your lap even if there’s plenty of space for him to lie parallel to you on a pillow — and you let him.

“Have you ever thought about kissing me?” he asks in the middle of you texting your substitute, the randomness of his thought already being familiar to you. This time, unlike the few thousand times he’s ever asked you something straight off his mind without refining them, is different.

It’s different now because your pretend-boyfriend asks you if you’ve ever thought about kissing him, while looking like he really wants to kiss you.

“Where’d that come from?” you giggle, looking down on him on your lap. 

Not once does Jungkook ever look away from you.

“Dunno,” he shrugs, pointing up at you. “Your lips are close to bleeding and it’s bothering me.”

“Sorry for turning you off,” you snort in laughter, wiping at the tiny specks of blood. Jungkook tuts when you rub at them, feeling for his lip balm out of his pocket.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he stresses, going a little cross-eyes when he applies them for you. His eyes keep goading you, the smile he has on his face widening the more that you look at him incredulously. “Sooo… have you?”

You don’t want to lie to him at all.

“If I answer yes, Jungkook,” you toy around with his hair, setting your phone face-down because you can’t focus on anything else now. “We can never come back from that.”

Jungkook laughs in glee so loudly, Yoongi (who was only passing by; he really, really swears he didn’t just happen to eavesdrop in your room because Jungkook’s driver is all done eating and wants to beat traffic) actually flinches.

Jungkook strains to be closer to you, unconsciously training you to lean down. His lips are far too soft — far too close to you, you could see every line and every nuance in them. He whispers, eyes practically crossing at your proximity.

“And is that such a bad thing?”

( ♡ ) 

You’re back at home when Jungkook texts you that he’s made it back safe, and that he wants to kiss you again.

You’re back at home when Yoongi asks you if he could use the bathroom first because Haneul spilled milk on him during the drive. You’re in your childhood bedroom when you let him clean up first, and you’re sitting on your childhood bed when you volunteer to put Haneul down because he’s cranky and for some reason, wants to be held by you.

You’re back at home too when Yoongi and Haneul are knocked out for the night, and your mom calls you and Namjoon down for all three of you to talk at the dining table.

You’re back at the home you were raised in, sitting on the dining table that’s creaky when more than two people lean their weight into it, in the space you’ve roamed around alone waiting for them to come home, when your mom talks about wanting to sell it.

“You want to sell?” Namjoon’s eyes widen, exchanging a glance with you who’s as equally surprised as he is.

“Yes. It’s under my name, y’know? Not that… man’s,” she snorts, the off-hand mention of your father making you and Namjoon laugh unexpectedly. Your mom looks at ease as she talks about selling your house, the smile she has one her face being shaped with experience and grace. “I doubt the both of you would want to keep this, and besides, the offers I’ve kept for years now are high. You already know that big-shot companies have been buying out houses here for years now because of the growth potential and whatnot. Who knows, maybe our block will be turned into a mall!” she shrugs, the happiness in her tone infectious. 

For someone who’s decided on letting go the house she’s both struggled and strived in, your mom’s beyond excited.

For two adults, who were once kids, who’ve seen the amount of sacrifices your mother’s put into the place by herself, you and Namjoon don’t have any objections.

“Also, consider this as me asking for permission to go on a vacation, even if I’m grown, because some people get so paranoid when I don’t answer calls,” she digs at you and your brother, immediately inciting coughs because you two, in fact, are guilty of worrying over your mom too much. “I’m going on this worldwide trip with Yoongi’s mom,” she grins, pulling out one last surprise. “We’ve talked about it since we were young. She’s earned her stripes working abroad, I managed to raise two amazing children as a single mom. We’ve earned it, I think.”

You and Namjoon share a glance once again, this time more definite than the last. You’ve made up already as far as your mom could tell, and that confirmation is what she needs before finally selling the house you all grew up in.

“You’ve earned it more than anyone.”

( ♡ ) 

Yoongi’s packing up for their flight tonight when you go into your room to pack up the life you’ve lived there.

“You’re coming with me and Haneul?” Yoongi jokes when he sees you pulling out your own luggage, the tone of his voice highly suggesting for you to become serious. He gets you to smile and that’s big enough of a win as is, the remainder of it more than substantial to hold onto when he’s away from you. Again.

“No, unfortunately. I’m packing up the room and eventually… the whole house,” you answer with a chuckle, voice trailing off when you see the crestfallen look on Yoongi’s face. He looks like someone who’s just absorbed the largest pain to man as he’s trying not to make it obvious. “We’re posting it for sale two weeks from now.”

Yoongi nods tightly, inhaling sharply as he tries to maintain his steady tone. “Then why are you packing up already?”

You could do this tomorrow. As a matter of fact, you could do it tonight because you don’t have to drive them to the airport. You have all the time in the world within two weeks to do this, yet you go into your room now when Yoongi’s still in it.

When Yoongi still hasn’t left, and neither of you know when you’re gonna see each other next.

“I have to get a move on. If I don’t move now,” you trail, voice close to trembling as you open cabinets you’ve never even given the time of day before. “I’m scared that I’ll keep holding onto this house.

Yoongi nods, even if he fully understands — even if he doesn’t want to swallow what you’re saying.

“You want out?”

“We want out — me, mom, Namjoon,” you explain, looking at him properly for the first time since he told you that he loved you. “For the longest time, we’ve held onto this place because we became this house at one point. Namjoon’s this world star, my mom’s traveling the world with your mom-…”

“Oh, they’re finally doing it?” Yoongi interrupts, a smile finally coming to his face at the news. He hasn’t talked to his mom in a month from how busy he’s been, and although he’s always missed her (even if they’re on much better terms than he and his dad could be), he’s happy knowing that your moms have each other atleast. “How about you? What will you be doing?”

“I’ll just be… living day-to-day. I’m not doing anything extremely special, but I’m happy and busy doing it,” you laugh, looking around your room that hasn’t appeared this clean, this warm, since you last stayed in it. “No one’s going to be around here anymore.”

As if on cue, Haneul runs to Yoongi’s arms to be picked up. He knows what the luggages mean and because he’s largely in denial that they have to leave later (as referenced by him crying to your mom and Namjoon), Haneul keeps pretending to sleep so that their trip gets delayed.

Yoongi’s about to put him on your bed even if he knows his son’s antics already, but in the fear that he’ll actually get to sleep and they don’t get to leave (which he isn’t opposed to at all), he keeps him in his arms.

You, on the other hand, take Haneul from him when his arms outstretch for you.

There’s the sentiment of you not having to do it that’s resting at the tip of Yoongi’s tongue but he holds himself back, the image of you and Haneul completely fitting one another, he wants to burn a copy of it to his retinas and designate it to be the last thing he’ll see if he ever goes blind.

Without putting Haneul to sleep on your bed, he goes to sleep in peace in your arms.

“Do you regret it?” Yoongi asks throughout the silence between you, sitting next to you at the edge of your bed. “Do you regret ever liking me?”

“I do,” you answer truthfully, rubbing circles at the Haneul’s back. “I regret knowing you.”

Yoongi takes the responsibility fully, even fuller than the way both your hurt and happiness could make or break him.

“I can’t take back all the hurt I’ve caused you,” he admits just as honestly, turning to look at you. He becomes surprised to learn that you’ve been looking at him the whole time. “But what I can promise you is that I’ll never do anything to hurt you again.”

“I have my share of faults too.”

“Eh. Mostly mine.”

“Mostly yours, yeah,” you laugh easily, nodding to yourself as you continue. “But I held onto you as much as you didn’t hold onto me. That’s my mistake.”

Yoongi stays silent at that, not because he agrees, but because the bias that you’ll never be wrong in his eyes overtakes your humbleness.

“Do you think he’ll remember the entirety of the trip?” you ask, gesturing to Haneul who’s already sleeping like a hibernating bear in your hold. “Or will Haneul just remember that time the power went out because he cried a lot?”

“Oh, he’ll remember everything alright. He’s good with retention and people in general,” Yoongi waves you off. “Even if he didn’t come along the trip— even if we didn’t crash the whole thing, Haneul would remember you.”

“Who am I to him?” you ask in curiosity, lips turning into a straight line before they curve in the slightest. “Appa’s friend, I bet.”

“Not really. You’re a lot of things to me,” Yoongi chuckles, looking at the way Haneul grips you as if you’ll float away if he lets go; he’d do the same too. “More like my first love.”

Yoongi loves you quietly.

He loves you quietly with the way he draws the curtains downstairs when you sleep on the couch, tired and stressed over a solution you couldn’t understand. He loves you with the way he’ll scoop the warmest, freshest, least-burnt portion of rice to your bowl without you even asking for it. He loves you with the way he’s willing to let you walk all over him.

He loves you quietly in the way that not even distance nor time could disrupt him.

Yoongi loves you quietly, it might have been too much.

“Is that a lottery ticket?” he asks suddenly as he spots the familiar face of it inside your luggage, tucked into the discreet pocket where your mother’s letters of encouragement when you went to the big city were also kept

“Oh, it’s still there,” you answer, in surprise yourself because even if this is the same luggage you use whenever you go out of the country with Jungkook, you’ve never noticed that it was still there. “I bought it when you left for the US.”

Yoongi stops in his tracks in retrieving the scratch ticket from the pocket, looking up at you in curiosity. “Why did you buy one that day?”

Haneul stirs in his sleep in your arms, waking up right at the middle of you and Yoongi being lost in each other. He mistakes the silence as a signal that they’ll be leaving already, making a mess of himself as he quickly goes down the stairs to look for your family there and cling to them instead.

You and Yoongi are alone again.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, grasping the scratch ticket you used to spend hours looking. “I guess I just needed some proof that fate was against me that day.”

“But how would you even know that?” Yoongi asks, pointing to the card that’s still covered. “You didn’t even scratch it.”

You answer honestly, the reason burnt to the back of his mind.

“Because I knew I would lose my mind if I actually lost.”

“Try,” Yoongi swallows, nudging the ticket closer to you with a gaze that mirrored yours when he left. “Try again. Please.”

You have nothing else to lose.

Yoongi isn’t yours to lose.

You retrieve the same old coin Yoongi gave to you on the same day that he bought you your first scratch ticket, the appearance of it from your luggage making his heart skip a beat.

He doesn’t speak and neither do you, gaze only fixed on the way you scratch the card almost hesitantly, as if you’re still scared of the results of something that you should’ve known five years ago. (Read: you still are.)

When you get to the last digit, you freeze. You comb through the pattern over and over again, yet you still can’t believe it.

You’ve won the highest possible prize.

“Oh.”

“Oh,” you parrot Yoongi, looking up at him as he can’t believe it either.

“You won.”

“I won,” you repeat, running a hand through your hair. You actually laugh, the lump in your throat subsiding. It’s a welcome, albeit loaded, feeling of happiness that comes in between the two of you. “I thought I would lose,” you mutter bitterly, shaking your head. 

You didn’t lose. Fate wasn’t against you that day, and yet you still lost yourself thinking subconsciously what the proof of it would’ve been.

“Who would’ve thought, right?” you sigh, eyes drifting to Yoongi. “If only I took that chance years ago, I would’ve won.”

Yoongi smiles tightly, breath faltering in recollection.

“I’m familiar with the feeling,”

Yoongi doesn’t get to finish packing for him and Haneul and neither do you with your whole room, the shift in the atmosphere suddenly making him stand.

He’s breathless and he doesn’t know what for, the rapid beating of his chest making his voice louder than necessary. “Hey, what do you say you take a break? I’ll pack up your room. I have to stay alert anyway for Haneul."

You thank him before leaving him alone in your room.

Yoongi can’t find the strength in him to pack. The only power he has left in him is for him to think of taking everything out from his luggages, the thought of leaving again, this time worlds different than the last when you were begging him not to — he feels like throwing up.

Yoongi’s merely an amalgamation of you. He’s only a compilation of your every word, every feeling you’ve implanted in his heart. He’s filled with nothing but your every triumph and shortcoming; every late night hanging out with you as you attempt to study while he keeps you company, every minute he spent going out of his mind trying to look for you when you ran away from home.

Yoongi loves you silently to the point that he gets out of your room without accomplishing a single thing he said he’ll do just awhile ago.

In the grand scheme of things, Yoongi realizes that he was wrong. He was as wrong as you were right that the moment he leaves home, he’ll spend the rest of his life looking for it. 

Even if you left your home like he did, even if neither of you could come home anymore the moment your childhood house gets sold, Yoongi would still search for it. He’ll still search for you. You’re no longer where you were, but you are everywhere that Yoongi is.

He looks for you in Namjoon’s room, to the dining table, and all the way outside, just to ask if he and Haneul could stay for dinner.

Yoongi finds you and Haneul eating sundaes on the pavement outside, with you on the ground and a scrap cardboard underneath Haneul so it wouldn’t be hot for him.

Fate hadn’t been against you five years ago. And even if he’s much too late, Yoongi could only pray that fate isn’t against him now.

He walks over to where you and Haneul are, grabbing another scrap of cardboard to put underneath you.

Yoongi is consumingly yours all the time.

[chantiepie]

💞ESPRESSO💞 Yoongi +18

Yoongi x Reader

Synopsis: You are the complete opposite of Yoongi... And he can't get you out of his head.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, masturbation.

Words: 5k.

ko-fi ☕

Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so

You liked pink, feeling the morning sun caress your skin as you went for your morning run. Your favorite coffee was with milk, you enjoyed pop music, your shoes were always soft and colorful, perfectly matching the delicate bows adorning your wavy hair.

Yoongi was the complete opposite. He preferred black. At night, he went out to drink whiskey, finding comfort in the smooth burn of the drink. In the mornings, it was pure coffee, without the addition of milk or sugar, just the invigorating bitterness to awaken his senses. Ink stained his skin, almost covering it completely, each drawing telling a story he kept to himself.

He couldn't understand where that attraction to You came from. He spent hours thinking about pink bows, something he had never done before. It all started three months ago, when you walked into the bar accompanied by some people he already knew. The moment your eyes met his, it was as if a magnet drew him to you. Throughout the night, even as he tried to disguise it, it was difficult for Yoongi to look away.

He mentally thanked his friend when he called his group to join them, even though there was no direct interaction between you.

After 10 minutes, he watched you, laughing at everything that was happening, engaging in lively conversations with the group.

After that encounter, things went from bad to worse for Yoongi. He was never one to get emotionally involved with anyone, preferring casual or no-strings-attached relationships. However, your presence stirred something within him in a way he couldn't understand. You were everything he avoided: outgoing, funny, sweet, the type of girl who seemed destined for a conventional life, marrying some heir who majored in business at Harvard and now works at a major Wall Street investment firm.

In that regard, he wasn't wrong. Yoongi, after that night, didn't make any advances since he discovered during the conversation that you were committed and that your boyfriend couldn't attend because he was tired, having recently been promoted. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but think about you, even when he tried to keep his distance.

Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso

The second time you guys met, during a game night, or as they call it when the real goal is just to drink, Taehyung asks about your boyfriend. Yoongi continues to pour whiskey pretending not to hear..You respond that he's not coming because he's been really busy lately and quickly try to change the subject by letting out your classic laughs. 'What a surprise,' Tae whispers while sending only an eye roll. You listen, ignoring afterwards. However, Yoongi realizes that something isn't right in your reaction.

During the small party, as he scans the room, most people are standing around smoking or chatting, and the lights are partially dimmed, emitting only a kind of light that slowly changes colors. He notices two shadows in a corner near the kitchen and quickly realizes it's you and Jimin talking. From the movements and body language, he can see your expression of disappointment, with a look of indignation that he can't ignore. It's not sadness, but rather a clear disappointment that hangs over you.

Min rises from the couch, deliberately ignoring the tempting gestures of the redhead seeking his attention. With determined steps, he crosses the room, passing by everyone without exchanging a word, and ascends the stairs towards the balcony on the upper floor of the house. His steps echo softly through the hallway as he approaches the open area of the balcony, where the night breeze welcomes him.

Upon reaching the balcony, Min takes a deep breath of the cool night air before reaching for his pack of cigarettes and lighter. He eagerly seeks nicotine, longing to find brief relief from the tensions surrounding him.

The glass door is open, inviting him to enter. He settles into one of the chairs, immersing himself in his own thoughts, when he notices someone approaching and sitting beside him. He recognizes the presence without needing to check.

"Can I have one?" The question is simple but loaded with meaning. Min needs no more than that to understand. Without uttering a word, he extends the cigarette along with the lighter, sharing the gesture in silent understanding

"Someone asked about you yesterday," Jungkook, a guy who recently started working at the same bar as Yoongi, said casually as the two of them organized the glasses to open the establishment.

Jungkook, the youngest among the staff, was still attending university, carving out his path for the future. The guy had moved to the capital in a rush, without having had time to plan properly. Now, he found himself dependent on his parents for expenses, which made him feel like a burden on his shoulders. Determined to become more independent and relieve the financial burden on his family, Jungkook began looking for part-time jobs or ones that were only on weekends, which led him to Hoseok, who introduced him to the opportunity to work at the bar.

The next morning was just another ordinary workday for Yoongi. As he organized the glasses, his mind wandered among the bar's tasks.

"Someone asked about me?" Yoongi asked, trying to disguise his interest, but his curiosity was evident in his tone of voice.

"Yes, it was a girl," Jungkook replied, grabbing more glasses to organize. "She seemed interested in getting to know you better."

A shiver ran down Yoongi's spine. Was it her? Was she finally showing some interest? He couldn't help but feel a mixture of hope and anxiety.

"Do you know her name?" Yoongi asked, trying to sound casual.

Jungkook thought for a moment before responding. "I think it was... Yuna? Yeah, I think that was it."

The excitement on his face quickly faded, turning into a bored expression. He remembered her, the redhead, she was very pretty, but his mind was already made up.

Jungkook noticed, but chose to stay silent about it, quickly changing the subject and focusing on Hoseok's birthday that would take place at the bar in a month.

I can't relate to desperation My "give a fucks" are on vacation And I got this one boy and he won't stop calling When they act this way, I know I got 'em

The third time he saw you... Well... He wasn't sure if he really saw you or if it was just his mind conjuring up your image. It was late at night, during his off-duty hours, and Yoongi was outside a liquor store, along with some customers who had become closer to him. The night was too hot to stay indoors, so he decided to accept one of their invitations to hang out. Let's just say it was just for drinking and smoking outside some liquor store downtown.

After many bottles, including one being accidentally dropped on the ground, he looked at a corner and there you were, or at least he thought it was you. You were wearing a blue dress that reached mid-thigh, adorned with a large bow of the same color adorning your hair from behind.

Suddenly, everything flooded back into his mind, as if a wave of memories hit him, turning into a tangled mess of soft colors, filled with smiles and shared moments, as if he were reliving a scene from a romantic movie. Among the flashes of memory, images of cute teddy bears and affectionate gestures emerged.

It seemed incredibly real, but it all happened so fast. He began to doubt his own sanity, something he had been doing for some time, and the idea of ​​going after to find out who that person was came to his mind. Under the influence of the adrenaline that alcohol provided, he began to seriously consider the possibility of acting, taking advantage of the fact that nobody he was with knew you. This propelled him to overcome his shyness and hesitation, especially in front of the common circle of friends you shared.

One of the friends, probably taller and louder, nudged him on the shoulder with a wide smile. "Hey, Min! What are you staring at so intently? If you keep frowning like that, you'll get more wrinkles."

Yoongi shook his head, trying to play it off. "No, it's nothing. Just... I think I saw someone familiar over there on the corner."

The friend laughed, patting the pale man's back. "Ah, okay, we get it. Let's focus on the bottles, alright?"

Yoongi just nodded, but deep down, the glimpse he had of the figure on the corner continued to echo in his mind, like a soft melody he couldn't forget.

Walked in and dream came trued it for ya Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya

"Please, Madonna is a queen," you declare to Jimin with conviction as you both enter the venue, amidst a lively debate about pop divas worthy of a Twitter thread.

"Not just a queen, she's a goddess, along with Cher, baby," Jimin backs up his argument.

The bar belonged to Yoongi, and it was a cozy yet stylish establishment tucked away in a trendy corner of the city. The entrance greeted patrons with a neon sign flickering with warm hues, drawing them into a world where music and conversation flowed freely. Inside, dim lighting cast a soft glow over plush velvet couches and rustic wooden tables, creating an atmosphere that was both inviting and intimate. The walls were adorned with vintage posters of iconic musicians and artists, adding a touch of nostalgia to the modern ambiance. Behind the sleek bar counter, shelves lined with an impressive array of spirits and liquors glimmered under the spotlights, inviting guests to indulge in their favorite drinks. As you and Jimin settled into your seats, the sound of laughter and the clinking of glasses filled the air.

The noise of the music in the bar was loud, but not loud enough to prevent Yoongi from hearing your voice as you entered the establishment. His eyes locked onto you, dressed in a pink dress that hugged your curves irresistibly, outlining each contour with elegance. The suggestive neckline added a touch of boldness, leaving anyone who looked at you drooling with admiration. Your hair cascaded over your shoulders, framing a delicately made-up face that exuded confidence and charm. You seemed like a vision of pure sophistication and sensuality, and a subtle hint of jealousy struck Yoongi, though it was something he would never admit out loud.

Finally, it was Hoseok's birthday party, and the bar was packed, considering he was so sociable, seemingly friends with half the city. Yoongi didn't know even 20% of the people there, but he had let his friend invite whoever he wanted as a gift.

As a way to not make it too obvious that he had a crush on you, Yoongi kept himself busy with party duties. He served drinks, helped set up with Jungkook and Taehyung, who, by some miracles, actually started to pitch in... More often than not, they ended up hindering rather than helping.

As they worked on the preparations, Yoongi occasionally cast furtive glances in your direction, observing your movements and conversations with the other guests.

He found himself looking at you again, chatting animatedly with Jimin. You whispered to each other and glanced around, seemingly engaged in a private conversation that no one else could hear. His attention was soon taken when the music stopped, and he saw the guest of honor for the night on the small stage used for live music nights.

"I'm glad everyone's here and I want to thank you all, but especially Yoongi," Hoseok pointed to the dark corner of the bar where his friend was busy making drinks. When Yoongi realized that all eyes were on him, he felt a warmth creeping up his cheeks. But what really embarrassed him was noticing that you were watching him with your big eyes and a smile that made your face glow. "He provided this exclusive space for us. This party would have been impossible without you, brother."

He definitely wasn't used to being the center of attention, and the sensation made him uncomfortable.

As the party was in full swing, a sweet pop song started playing, and that's when he noticed the commotion around him. You were closer to him, and he didn't know how that happened, but something slipped from your lips as you stared into his eyes:

"Oh, he looks so cute wrapped 'round my finger."

You put the straw to your lips and gave him a slight smile. Before he realized it, you had vanished into the crowd.

But this empty space didn't remain so for long. Jimin, the guy he always saw you with everywhere. Something Yoongi suspected at first until he realized, through social media, that besides you being really friends, the guy with the big lips and cute smile had a girlfriend who strangely looked a lot like him. Jimin also got closer to Yoongi a bit before you showed up. He was friendly, not always, but had an aura of a playful boy.

"You got the message, right?" Jimin stopped in front of Yoongi and said this with a somewhat arrogant smile on his face as he nodded toward the upstairs, which not ironically was where Yoongi kept a second home when he wanted to escape from the world or felt too tired to go to his luxury apartment. The older man returned the smile, not wanting to show that he was lost.

"What are you two up to?"

"Why would we be up to anything?"

"You know you're always involved in something, right?" Yoongi raised his left eyebrow slightly as he questioned.

"Are we communicating in questions now?" Jimin repeated the act.

Yoongi remained silent, just waiting for the next response.

"Uh, I'm just getting things done here," he spoke again, pointing to Yoongi's house with his head. Jimin was already pushing him towards the stairs, not allowing Yoongi to think things through. "I need you to grab JK's bag, he left it there."

"Why is his bag in my house?"

"I don't know, just go already."

Yoongi climbed the stairs, trying to go unnoticed, a bit suspicious about what was going on. As he entered through the wooden door, he found the place completely silent and everything in place, the small living room and kitchen were in perfect order, with no sign of anything suspicious. He decided to turn back and return, but before he could do that, a loud noise coming from the bathroom made him freeze in place.

"That's a heavy door," the unmistakable female voice reached his ears, and in seconds, he understood all the strangeness that had occurred downstairs. You appeared in the hallway leading to the bedroom, perfect as always, but stumbling a bit with your tall white boots, most likely due to the force of the door.

Yoongi quickly turned around trying to leave the place unnoticed, but when he tried to open the door, it was locked from the outside. He mentally cursed Jimin for whatever the hell he was trying to do. He turned his gaze to you.

"Uh," he cleared his throat, trying to get your attention. Your surprised expression gave away that something was wrong, but he could see a hint of shyness glimmering in your eyes.

"Yoo-o-ngi?" You cleared your throat, still a bit incredulous. "Is something wrong? I needed to wash my hands. You know? Drinks, dancing, spilled... Jungkook told Jimin and that you authorized me to come here because of the bathroom line... Um, that's it, I guess?" It was like a meltdown, you spoke hurriedly in seconds, Yoongi barely caught on. That nervousness had an explanation.

What Yoongi didn't know was that you were enchanted by his figure, the way he remained mysterious, his large and firm hands holding the whiskey glass... Yoongi was far from the type of guy you were used to dating and attracting, but people like him were your ideal type of guy, the one you imagined before falling asleep or when watching a romantic comedy. It wasn't just a crush, you genuinely had developed an admiration for him in this short period of time. His organization and the way he fought for his goals were like a moment of silence in the daily chaos.

It was difficult for you to find a moment to talk to him because it seemed like the only thing he knew how to do was work. Besides, it would be strange to show up alone at his bar, right?

But it was becoming complicated to hide when you two met. Most of your friends had already noticed your glances, you weren't someone who could pretend. Now, in front of him, alone in a place illuminated only by the moonlight, it was difficult to hide.

"Jungkook didn't warn you, did he? I'm sorry, I-I..."

"Y/N," Yoongi's voice echoed through the hallway, sending a shiver down your spine. Your eyes met in the dim light, sparking with palpable tension. You held your breath, feeling a wave of desire course through your body. Yoongi's intense gaze pinned you in place, as if you were ensnared in a spell. You could feel the electricity in the air, the attraction pulsing between them like an invisible current. Your lips parted, ready to form words that were never spoken, but the sound died in your throat. You couldn't decipher what he was feeling.

"Just shut up," that wasn't what you expected. "I think I know exactly what's going on."

The tone of voice used left you feeling flushed, it was embarrassing. You tried to ignore all the reactions of your body and began to think about the events. And when you realized the plot, all your eyebrows raised and your cheeks violently reddened in understanding.

Jimin had convinced you to make a move today.

"The plan is easy." He spoke with calculated confidence, as if conducting a masterclass. The images on the TV screen flickered, displaying a variety of suggestive outfits. "You throw him some charm, something subtle but not too subtle, it needs to be teasing but not overly, something like a discreet invitation," Jimin explained, sliding the slides skillfully.

"I'll choose the clothes that please me," you retorted, with a tone of disapproval.

"Your clothes already have a vibe of another reserved, so it's all right," he replied with a mischievous smile. "Continuing, second step: you'll touch up your makeup in the bathroom upstairs. You know how it is, at these parties the main bathroom always gets crowded. Are you understanding?"

"Yes, Professor Park," you replied, feeling somewhat frustrated. "But why do I need to touch up my makeup?"

"Think with me, Y/N," Jimin said, adopting a persuasive tone. "That will probably happen after a while. I want to make sure that, by the time he sees you and you talk, you look absolutely stunning." You trusted Jimin's guidance, even if the reasoning behind it didn't make much sense.

"So, I'll lead the conversation with him and keep him around. When you come back, you'll be ready. You'll throw the charm, disappear, and then come back triumphant," Jimin concluded, outlining the plan with unwavering confidence.

Your hand automatically hits your forehead. You felt a little humiliated, especially considering his strange reaction.

"Yoongi, what did he tell you to come up here?" You don't look at him, avoiding any proximity.

"Does that really matter?" He was in front of you, making it impossible to look away. He saw you biting your lips in a moment of pure impulsivity, and that aroused him to the true Yoongi, the guy who doesn't need to woo someone, he fucks without a care.

He leans towards you, his lips meeting yours. His lips were soft, but you could hardly feel them, due to the force with which he grabbed your waist with one hand and the other behind your head, pulling your hair slightly. Their bodies pressed against each other, seeking relief for the tension that had built up between them.

You moaned in the form of a sigh, and he let out a arrogant chuckle in the middle of the kiss.

"Y/N... We haven't even started and you're already moaning like this?" Yoongi didn't want an answer, but he leaned back slightly from your face, pulling your hair again, this time with force, forcing you to look at him. He took advantage of your stretched neck to lick it up to your ear.

"So needy," he put his tongue back into your mouth.

Suddenly, Yoongi returned to what he was before he met you. The arrogance was in the air. You could only moan and murmur.

When one of his hands slipped between your legs, you choked in the middle of the kiss, stopping in alarm, but that didn't discourage Yoongi, who continued to move his fingers lightly over your panties.

Your mouths were close to each other, but remained separated, so close that Yoongi could feel your breath hitting his lips. Some strands of saliva still connected you. The older man's movements began to get faster, his reactions were making you embarrassed, you were about to climax without him even having touched you properly. A finger slipped into your wet hole.

"Yoongi," you were in ecstasy, broken, looking at his face, eyebrows furrowed, eyes closed, and mouth slightly open. You felt his breath close to yours, sighing, but without touching, it was a tease. Yoongi's hand slid to your jaw and held it firmly. He knew you were close by the pulsation of your pussy and the grip on his fingers.

"Yoongi... I'm going to cum, please don't stop, please," you whimpered as the tingling began from inside your belly, he kept up the pace; it was so wet there.

"Yes, fuck, cum on my fingers," that was enough.

And so you did, in small gasps and with tightly closed eyes, you melted over him, almost falling to the ground.

You barely noticed when he put you on top of the kitchen table and, with a gentle push, laid you down, pulling up your dress to your waist. Yoongi's large rings made contact with the warm skin of your belly, bringing more sighs.

Yoongi looked into your eyes asking for permission, receiving only a pleading look to continue. You threw your head back, completely lying down. It was only possible to hear the metallic sound of the belt being opened and a light sound of his pants falling to his ankles. Peeking, you came across the most promiscuous scene you had ever seen. Yoongi looking directly at your pussy still covered by panties, with his lips between his teeth, while he masturbated lightly. He grunted like an animal before approaching.

He pushes the panties aside and slowly slides into you, earning a dragged moan from you. He takes advantage of his position and, running his hand over the outside of your thighs, he pulls you closer, returning to vigorously swinging his hips towards you.

His breathing becomes heavier as Yoongi's gaze fixates on the action that is taking place. He is ignoring everything as if that were the only thing that mattered, just listening to the sound of their skins colliding.

"Don't stop," your voice comes out in a whisper, knowing that he is close to climaxing. The movements accelerate more than possible, and Yoongi's voice becomes a tangle of grunts and sighs until he buries himself deep inside you.

You feel every movement of his, every part of him inside you, an overwhelming sensation that makes your whole body tremble. Your breathing becomes heavy, your heart beats irregularly, and the heat between you is palpable, enveloping you in an intense aura of desire and passion.

The last thing you remember is him with you in the shower, bathing you while you played around like two idiots. The hot water running down your naked bodies, the laughter echoing in the small space of the bathroom. Shortly after, without even bothering to dry off, you both fall onto the bed, your bodies still wet, but your hearts filled with an intense and profound connection.

Jimin would be punished for lying.

Is it that sweet? I guess so That's that me, espresso

Two men were inside a large black car parked in front of the bar across the street. The party had ended an hour ago, nearly 7 a.m., but they remained there for an important reason.

"Did it work?" The man with large eyes asks.

"Believe me, I don't give it five months for Y/N to show up with a grumpy mini-Min ready to cry on my shoulder," he says, taking another sip from the cold beer can, taken from Yoongi's special stock, but he knew he deserved it, as they had taken care of the place and closed after the party.

"Anyway, I hadn't even noticed... This... um... thing they have... Jimin, when you wanted to talk to me, I thought it was about Yuna," the other comments.

"Haha, that was a lie. She's obviously attractive. I just wanted to test him a little before leaving my best friend in his hands," Jimin says naturally, gesturing with his hand to support his own plan.

"Lie?" Jungkook turns his body fully towards Jimin, with his eyebrows deeply furrowed and his arms open in indignation.

Jimin puts his hand on his shoulder and follows his gaze to the second floor of the establishment.

"You know, a good cupid needs to ensure all possibilities." Jimin checks his phone one last time before leaving, and only one notification catches his attention.

"Your NETFLIX login is no longer available. Would you like to sign in with another account?"

A scream was heard throughout the neighborhood.

Hello everyone. Just popping in to let you know that next week I'll be posting the second chapter of Get This Man <3.

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

Our Little Love part seven - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au

What’s that saying? One step forward two steps back? 👀 6K words containing: manipulation, toxic yandere men, non-consented acts of affection, lies, possessive behaviour, jealousy, allusion to crime and kidnapping.

“Little love,” Jin calls for you absentmindedly, frowning when you don’t look up from your book to answer him. It’s one you had read a million times before, maybe you didn’t hear him.

“Little love?” He tries again, looking confused as you let out a disgruntled sigh of annoyance.

He can see your jaw clench, something had pissed you off. Your foot became restless as you sat in the arm chair, it was only when Jimin cleared his throat obviously he remembered the terms and conditions you had enforced.

This time he lets out a big sigh, one of tested patience. He mumbles an apology before turning away, a bitter feeling creeping up his chest. Fuck, he resented the fact he couldn’t call you that anymore, it was like asking him not to breathe. Fuck fuck fuck, they needed to earn your forgiveness soon or this might actually kill them. Not that they ever underestimated you, but you really did know which weapons to pull to hurt them the most, and fuck did he have to admit they deserved it. Didn’t mean he had to like any of it.

Jimin follows him out, a quick glance back at you to see if you were paying any concern but of course not. Since the day you announced the break you’d been keeping your distance, Jimin had complained about it childishly with tantrum tears in his eyes but you had patiently explained you needed the space to clear your head. 

Jimin scoffs at the memory, feeling sour about it still. The pout he wears gives away his thoughts when they both find Yoongi in the kitchen.

“Little love giving you a hard time?” he says almost amused. 

It’s Jin’s turn to scoff dramatically, ears burning so red, Yoongi swears there’s steam. 

“We can’t call her that anymore,” he complains, sulking. 

Yoongi smiles a little, not because he truly found his hyung’s pain entertaining, but because he understood the pain. 

“It’s a difficult situation,” Yoongi agrees, “but the alternative would have been so much worse.”

Jimin and Jin stare silently at him, their gazes aggressive as if they wanted to hit the male but they didn’t because he was right. The worst alternative wasn’t expecting you to leave, they all knew they would never let that happen, but if you had become a ghost of yourself, if they had broken you so badly there was nothing left to rebuild, then what would be left of you? 

“When did you become so considerate?” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. He didn’t like any of it, he didn’t care if you were right and they were wrong, you had taken away their most prized and valuable possession, you. He couldn’t help the internal tantrums as if someone had taken away his favourite toy. Call him childish, call him whatever the hell you wanted, he hated this situation, and he couldn’t hide it. 

They apologised, and apologised, and apologised, and you still gave them the cruellest punishment you could think of. 

“You’re still thinking with anger,” Yoongi acknowledges, knowing when Jimin cooled down from this he would probably be the one with the most regret and remorse, what he didn’t know is Jimin was clinging to his resentment with all his might, because once that gave way he would have so much to answer for. 

—

Men would pay money to see Jung Hoseok hesitate, but that was exactly what he was doing now. Another book in your hand (you were reading a bit too much lately, he didn’t like it, it was as if you knew you couldn’t leave physically so you were doing so mentally), and he was stalling himself with interrupting you. 

Your rejection cut holes into him, and that’s what he was afraid of when approaching you today. When he was younger he used to be afraid of everything, but after indulging in the horrors of survival and the syndicate, nothing terrified him any more, or so he thought before his heart belonged to you. 

“Litt-” he catches himself before he says it too loud, clearing his throat quietly hoping you didn’t hear him. “Y/n?”

He sounds more confident, his more serious persona going up as if that would protect him here. He knew he needed it, any sane person after experiencing his pleasure and pain games would run at the sight of him, and a part of him was getting ready to catch you if you did.

You look at him and it has him crumbling. Something in his chest physically hurts him so bad he thinks he needs to go see a specialist, one glance from you and he’s ready to beg on his knees again for your forgiveness. The distance between you, although you were here in front of him, killed him. It felt eerily similar to what it did when you left, and it confused his brain and body so much. 

He had to remind himself every day, you were still here, you still loved them, this was just temporary. 

“I-I wasjus- I was just heading to the b-basment,” forget money, men would lay down their lives to see Jung Hoseok stutter and stumble over his words. 

You frown in question when he doesn’t continue, but stares at you expectantly, until he realises he hadn’t explained what he wanted.

“For a workout!” He rectifies himself quickly before taking a breath to calm himself, “I wondered if you wanted to join me?”

He mentally pats himself on the back quickly for sounding more put together, but then his nerves start to shake again when you don’t respond immediately. You contemplate it, for too long in his eyes, stretching out the pause until you have the man sweating. Who needs a work out, just piss your girlfriend off and try to spend time with her while she's still mad. 

“Yeah, okay,” you nod, finally putting down your book (he should get Jimin to burn them all). “I’ll go get changed.”

The relief and joy that floods Hobi almost makes him pass out, a genuine smile he hasn’t felt on his own face for days bursts through. This was a step in the right direction, you didn’t hate him or you would’ve shut him down. With the amount of hope in his system, he was getting giddy.

—

You wanted some time alone this evening, without them lingering around you, with poor attempts of covering their intentions with busying themselves. As if you couldn’t see Jimin’s imploring stare as he walked past you from the corner of your eyes. Or the way Jin would walk towards you, hesitate and then walk away. 

You didn’t say they couldn’t talk to you, you were just on a break. Part of you knows you should seek them out and start civil conversation but that part also knew once you opened the door they would come barging through. An inch would turn into a mile and you would be back where you started. 

So now you were busying yourself with the world’s worst chore, just to escape and breathe for a second, laundry. You were sorting through the load at a snail’s pace, knowing when you were done you’d have to endure them again. You’re so embedded in your own thoughts you don’t feel another presence join you.  

Arms wrap around you, making you still. His figure almost engulfs you from behind, his nose already finding purchase on your neck as he buries himself against you. You try not to sigh, you were sick of hearing the sound yourself but it was always  one of patience.

You understood how hard it was for them to accept your decision for a ‘break’, but all you wanted was some respect for it. And this broke your no touching rule.

“Tae let go,” you say without an ounce of emotion, continuing sorting out the laundry in front of you.

His only reaction to your words is the opposite of course, holding you tighter against him making your heart skip too many beats to count. Your skin sizzled with something akin to longing, a fire he only seemed to ignite when his breath hit your neck.

You don’t give in. You throw the item of clothing in your hand down, both hands on the edge of the basket as you still, standing statue as he tries his hardest to work through your defences. You don’t respond when he nuzzles his nose against where he’s buried, or to the rumble of his chest when he breathes you in deeply. His eyes are closed, you know they are, he’s relishing the moment all he can before you take it away.

He doesn’t feel you respond the way he wants you to, he wants you to melt against him and the urge is so strong but somehow you resist. He whines, the sound so soft near your ears you almost miss it. He tries holding you tighter still, his thumb stroking soft circles on your skin, trying to tempt you to break your resolve. Gentle, almost whisper like kisses are placed on your shoulder as he finally breaks away.

“Are you done?” You say almost coldly as he steps back, picking back up another item of clothing.

You hear him sniff but you don’t let it move you.

“Heaven, please,” he begs, a fist in your top clutching onto you.

That’s when you turn to face him. If he expects to see any softness in your gaze he’s sorely mistaken, it’s not a glare you’re giving him but it’s close enough that it burns. You don’t even flinch when you see tears in his eyes.

“I asked you not to touch me,” you state quietly but your words are firm. “Or that if you did, you asked first.”

He looks down, partly in shame, partly in grief. You can’t stand to see the sight, it makes your heart ache, so you walk away.

—

“Y/n?” Jungkook asks for your attention, biting his lips in worry. “Can I ask you about the book you’re reading?”

The others in the room feel an overwhelming sense of envy when you smile at the maknae. Jimin’s jaw goes slack as you scoot over to let Jungkook sit beside you. Envy was a dangerous thing, how he wanted to pluck the youngest of them out of the seat and take his place, but he hadn’t calmed his emotions down enough yet to approach you properly, and he knew if he did he’d ruin whatever rebuilding the others had done. No, he had to be patient with himself and withdraw, even if that meant physically. He was playing cards with Yoongi and Seokjin, but he places his cards down and leaves. 

Jin’s pout overtakes his face when he turns away from the sight of Jungkook grinning while you talk animatedly, putting down a card without thinking and letting Yoongi take the win this round. Yoongi didn’t even notice, his gaze goes soft at the way you laugh at a teasing comment Jungkook made, a sound he hasn’t heard in what felt like forever. The sound even makes the corners of Jin’s pout pull up. 

The youngest of the group honestly thought he was in paradise, he didn’t even care about the book he just wanted to hear you talk without reservation. His focus was on the way your eyes lit up, the genuine smile on your face, how does he try to make this moment last forever? He pays attention to every word you utter, asking the right question to keep you going, even making a joke here and there and feeling so pleased with himself when you laugh. 

How did the relationship regress back so far that he felt like this was the start of it, like he was still pursuing you to give him a chance, like he had to work up the courage to ask you out all over again. The answer of course was in their mistakes, the thought dampens his mood but he pushes it away. He didn’t know when he would get another moment like this, he had to soak it all in and cherish it before it was over. 

—

Your defences go up when you spot Jimin bringing Taehyung to you, the shorter male holding his hand guiding your bear like boyfriend in front of you. You look at them both expectantly, wondering what the theatrics were for. Taehyung sniffles, his face hanging low, his red hoodie pulled down as far as he can get it to hide himself. 

“Taehyung has something he wants to say Heaven- I mean angel- I mean Y/n,” he corrects himself repeatedly with a shake of his head, cheeks burning in slight embarrassment at the blunder, but he wouldn’t apologise for it even it that made him a hypocrite for what he was making Taehyung do. 

He pushes his friend gently, encouraging him to speak.

“Tae?” you say gently, remembering how harshly you spoke to him the other day. 

Apparently that was all it took for the man to break down into tears in front of you, falling to his knees as he bawled. Your jaw drops in shock at the action, but you’re more surprised at the fact he holds himself back from launching into you for comfort. 

You can see how hard it is to do so, he’s hugging himself, but his nails dig into the fabric of his clothes. He still doesn’t look at you, his gaze on the floor. You give him a second to compose himself, the sobs turning into little hiccups as he wipes his face with his sleeve. 

When he looks at you it's your turn to grip the armrests of the chair with all your might, those glassy eyes beg you for love and it takes everything not to smother him in your embrace. But that would undo all the work you’ve been doing, you had to talk it out first and then maybe if this was resolved you could reward him with physical affection, just a little. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he says through a hoarse voice, the sound only breaking your resolve further. “About the other day, I s-should’ve asked first.”

He tries to take a deep breath in but it’s shaky, for some reason what he wants to say next breaks him out into more tears. He covers his face as he cries, Jimin rubbing his back providing him with the comfort you couldn’t give just yet. 

“Doyouhateme?”

The muffled question breaks your heart, Jimin can see it on your face and it has him fighting down a smirk. He may have played a hand at manipulating the situation, convincing Taehyung this was the best way to get back into your good books.

“Tae no,” you breathe, eyes watering but you blink back the tears. You didn’t want to show them any weakness anymore. “I don’t hate you.”

You sigh, eyes to the ceiling, as if begging for control over yourself as you try really hard to not give in to the feeling of wanting to crawl into his lap and hold him. 

“I just really needed some space that day,” you explain, “and you caught me at a bad time.”

That wipes away Jimin’s elation, all this talk about space and distance, it already felt like you were living on Mars. How much space did you want? In his opinion there had been too much space, that was the problem, or were you forgetting the long agonising months of your absence? 

Taehyung nods, thankfully retaining your attention away from Jimin who couldn’t hide his thoughts from his face. 

—

You can’t sleep, tossing and turning from your side to your back and then to your side again. Were you fighting a losing battle? Were you being unfair in asking them to change? You remember cases of forgotten wives refusing to leave their no good husbands, the amount of inane times you heard the cries of ‘I can get him to change’... had you become one of those women? Then of course came the others, the women who knew they could not work miracles on their partners and gave up. Some left, some stayed, and you remember watching them all in the years of your career, arrogantly thinking it would never be you, no man would ever trap you like this. There was a joke in there somewhere, one man certainly didn’t, but seven did. 

The knock on the door thankfully interrupts your endless circle of pity, a meek Jungkook peeking around as he opens the door. Something about the scene felt familiar but the shoe was on the other foot. He was waiting for permission to come in, you don’t know why the sight made you smile, made you warm. 

If anyone was proof that they were trying for you it was Jungkook, Yoongi had kept his distance out of respect for your rules, you know he only did so because he couldn’t help himself if he got too close. Jimin was similar although, you could see he was keeping his distance mentally, angry with you and your conditions. It would pass, you were sure, or at least you hoped. 

Jungkook was the only one that accepted everything without complaint, and you knew it wasn’t easy. You were so grateful to him for it, for respecting your boundaries sincerely, for giving you hope that this relationship could be salvaged. 

He almost trips over himself when you pull the covers back wordlessly, inviting him in, the stumble of his legs as he races towards you makes you giggle. He climbs in without hesitation, about to reach out for you but he stops himself, eyes looking up at you, wanting to ask you out loud but too afraid to. 

“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, as if talking loudly would break the peace you felt with him there, that you’d second guess yourself.

Arms you’ve longed for wrap around your waist, pulling you towards him. You hold him back gently, not letting yourself get lost in him the way you wanted. In the darkness, your gazes meet, talking loudly in a way filled the silence. 

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes out hard, unable to hold it in any longer. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you admit.

He bites his lips to refrain from saying anything else, to break the illusion that everything was okay.

“I used to think I understood your darkness,” you murmur, stroking his hair out of his face.

He pulls you closer, burying his head against your chest, the youngest didn’t like how that sentence was going and part of him didn’t want to hear the rest.

“But I don’t think I ever did,” you confess in a whisper, starting to ramble. “I don’t get it Kookie, why me? This obsession, I thought I felt it the same as you, I thought you guys understood me too.”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to keep up with your thoughts when you felt the hands of sleep trying to catch you.

“Maybe I was just trying to excuse my own darkness,” you sigh, almost in defeat. “Or maybe I just fed yours too much.”

“You gave us your love,” he mumbles against your skin, eyes closed as he breathes in your scent. “Your acceptance, you didn’t feed our darkness baby, you just didn’t see the extent of it.”

—

The silence is suffocating. Yoongi normally appreciates it but in this situation it was unsettling. They’re all in the living room, some pretending to do their own thing, but no one was paying any attention to anything other than you. Yoongi and Namjoon did so blatantly, Yoongi sitting on the couch away from you but his stare is nowhere else. This didn’t break the rules, you didn’t tell him he couldn’t soak you in with his eyes whenever he wanted. 

The others were also very obvious with their glances towards you, Jin was dusting the same spot of the living room over and over. Hoseok flipping through the tv channels with Jungkook sitting beside him, the maknae biting his lips in worry with every peek he took, a habit he hadn’t had since he was a teenager. Taehyung and Jimin uncharacteristically played chess but all the pieces were in the wrong places, arbitrarily moving them just to keep appearances so you didn’t call them out. 

And Namjoon… the man was staring daggers into your form. Elbow on his thigh, leaning forward, his chin on his thumb, his finger on his face tapping away on his cheekbone impatiently. He was supposed to be going over the papers in his lap, but they were being scrunched in his other hand. Yoongi thought he looked like a bomb about to explode, and he wasn’t wrong.

“That’s it!” Namjoon almost growls as he slams his file down, standing from his seat while everyone stares in shock at his outburst.

He walks towards you, and you meet his glare but refuse to move from the comfort and safety of the tub chair, you don’t even close your book.

“This ‘break’ is over,” he snarls, gestating with his hands trying to find a conduit for his anger. “Do you understand, little love?”

You look up at him with eyes simmering a fire he only ignited, meeting his glare head on.

“I decide when this break is over,” you say calmly, refusing to fight him at his level.

“No.”

“No?” Your brows scrunch in disbelief and anger, there goes your plan to remain calm. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

You throw your book back into the seat as you rise to meet him eye to eye, although he’s still looking down at you.

“I mean…” he breathes gruffly, grazing his hand with yours at your side. “No.”

“You can’t b-“

Your voice is smothered by his lips, his soft touch turning into an iron grip as he pulls you closer, devouring you like a man starved and in his eyes that’s exactly what he was. You push him away, but he doesn’t allow for any space between you.

Even when you’re banging your fist against his chest, unable to breathe, he doesn’t budge. You’re at his mercy, only when he decides he’s had enough (for now), does he pull away.

You look dishevelled almost, breathing hard, your eyes glistening with tears. The sight shouldn’t arouse him but it does.

You have the audacity to childishly wipe his kiss away with the back of your hand, a tough swipe that does nothing to erase the force he handled you with. He chuckles, the sound makes your ears burn, feeling the warmth of shame colour them in.

The others stare with the jaws wide open, fear settling in that this was taking too many steps in the wrong direction. It takes everything not to call you back when you storm away, it takes everything not to follow. 

No one says a word, but they all glare accusingly at their leader except Taehyung, who only looks down in shame. 

—

“Where do you think you’re going?” Yoongi asks gruffly, sleep still in his voice.

“Out.” You respond bluntly, avoiding his gaze.

“I asked where,” he pushes when you pull Taehyung’s hoodie over your head. You were drowning in the fabric, and he pretended the sight didn’t make him ache for you. The same way you were trying so hard not to let his sleepy state bring down your defences, no matter how cute he looked in the shorts and grey top.

“What does it look like Yoongi,” your head was spinning with too many thoughts and you needed to clear it. “For a run.”

“I’ll come with you,” he says it like an offer but it’s not, you know it’s not. 

“No,” you refuse simply, finally meeting his stare. “Send one of your men to keep an eye on me, it's what you did before anyway.”

He’s quiet, observing you for a moment. You hated it when he did that, it was like he could see inside of you and yet, despite that, you felt like he couldn’t understand anything he saw. You break eye contact first, putting on your trainers while he continues to stare. Why couldn’t you read him the same, how could he still get under your skin with his silence even after all this time?

“I’ll send Jungkook,” he says as you open the door. “He’ll keep his distance.”

He doesn’t take the slam as you leave personally, he knows you just need to vent your frustrations, but because you were so isolated- sorry, because they isolated you, you had no one to vent to, no one who was objective to talk to. Physically stretching your mind would maybe do you some good. 

“Did you seriously let her go out unsupervised?” Namjoon seethes as he approaches Yoongi, quick to dial one of their men regardless of what nefarious time of the morning it was. The first call goes to voicemail.

Yoongi sighs, he was on his way back to bed, guess not.

“She deserves our trust,” he replies. “And I was about to send Jungkook.”

“It’s not about trust,” Namjoon bites back, another call unanswered, “it’s about safety, or are you forgetting our enemies hunt our weaknesses.”

“Our enemies know if they touch her they’ve signed their own death certificate, no one would dare cross us now, not with the amount of blood we’ve shed,” Yoongi groans in aggravation. “Not to mention you’ve bought out the police Namjoon.”

“But not every policeman, or Captain, or are you forgetting what we did to him?”

“You gave him a warning, he’ll behave,” Yoongi states, ready to leave the conversation but he can’t help himself with what he says next. After Namjoon’s actions last night, he was feeling a little vengeful, even if he didn’t completely mean his words. “We should’ve left him unharmed, we knew she didn’t want us to hurt him.”

The shock in Namjoon’s eyes flashes for a second before they compose themselves to a stare. He puts his phone back in his pocket, maybe Jungkook was the best one to go, you didn’t seem to punish him as harshly as the others.

The silence between the men turns the air cold, their gazes stoic but speaking volumes. Namjoon wouldn’t stand for mutiny or disloyalty, he especially didn’t stand for anyone questioning his decisions.

“He hurt her,” he explains himself patiently, “he wants to take her away from us.”

Yoongi scoffs, a humourless grin on his face as he stares back in ridicule at their leader.

“We hurt her,” he states, eyes blank of emotion, “where’s our bullet to the knees.”

—

If you were being honest with yourself, you hated running, you hated the way each breath burned as it filled your lungs, how each limb could feel like lead, but the pain was better than the thoughts you were trying to clear. 

You remember at the police academy, Suho and Kai used to run circles around you, but somewhere along the way your competitiveness got the better of you, and you trained harder than them both. It used to annoy you to hell that they were physically much stronger than you, but those days were some of the best. The three of you were so close, each other’s confidants when things went sour, the two you’d hang out with when a case went wrong. Now who did you have to confide in?

Maybe it’s your conscious or unconscious thoughts making your legs move in a particular direction, but you don’t realise where you’re headed until you see the sign above the door. The breakfast place… where everything went to shit a third time.

You barely glance inside as you run past but the sight of someone familiar makes you double take. Think of the devil and he appears?

His eyes catch yours when you stop in your tracks, he’s sitting at a table alone and the sight of him brings back that day like a breath after being underwater for so long. An apology is at the tip of your tongue, your eyes start to water, you know you have to keep running, if any of them finds you here with him, he’d be dead. You’re about to turn away when he waves at you, a simple smile that didn’t meet his eyes sent your way as he watches the realisation hit you.

His hand was covered in thick bandages, and your stare doesn’t leave them. There’s no thought in your mind as your legs move you into the building, ignoring the waiter's greeting as you walk towards your old Captain with dread. 

He shifts in his seat, letting you see the bandages on his leg, around his knee, the crutches resting on the seat next to him. Your eyes are wide with shock before your gaze turns into one of mournful rage. Tears start forming in your eyes as you shake.

The sense of betrayal that overwhelms you has you reaching a hand for the table, gripping the edge tight to steady yourself. 

They lied. 

They looked you in the eyes and lied. All of them, including Jungkook. You don’t let yourself sob, not when a fire burns any attachment you felt towards them to dust. 

You move your gaze from his injuries to his face, his stare never having left you. 

“Arrest them,” your voice is hoarse but without a morsel of regret, anger paving the way forward now, filling the loss you felt deep inside of you. 

They must’ve thought you were fucking stupid, they must’ve laughed behind your back, humoring you with their acts of trying to change. Fuck, you were a fool, they played you again and again and you just took it every fucking time. There was never going to be any change, and you refused to be their prisoner any longer.

“I’ll be your witness,” you say it with conviction, although a part of you grieves. “I’ll give you all the evidence you need, just send them away.”

Suho doesn’t say a word, and that makes it all so much worse. You can feel something creeping around you, shadows of them that have latched onto you, crawling all over your skin. You wanted rid of this dark energy, you wanted out. 

You don’t break his stare, not for a second, you can tell he’s deep in thought, contemplating your resolve, and if he saw a hint of uncertainty in you he would do no such thing. Why would he risk it? They hurt him, they could hurt him again. 

He reaches for his phone, and you take a premature breath of relief.

“Make the call,” he commands, handing the device to you. 

—

When Yoongi dragged Jungkook out of bed this morning, the maknae had begrudgingly crawled out of the house. His body ran on autopilot when he left to find you, eyes half open, yawning in the morning air. His hoodie pushes his hair to fall in his face but he’s too tired to drag the fabric back.

It wouldn’t take long to find you, he could run circles around you if he wanted but the thought of maybe spending some time with you alone made his legs pick up the pace, a goofy grin on his face as he thought about it.

Yes you were probably mad about Namjoon’s actions yesterday, not that Jungkook blamed him all that much, it was hard to stay away from you, but he was starting to understand your perspective a little more. Especially after the last time you pulled away, and he couldn’t let that happen again, he wouldn’t survive it another time. He wouldn’t blame you if you gave him the cold shoulder, he just hopes you don’t punish him because of Namjoon, deflecting your anger wherever it did damage.

He’d calm you down, he’s sure of it. He’d tell you that what their big bad boss did was wrong and he was on your side, he’d tell you that he loved you and respected you, and it didn’t matter how long you took to forgive them he was sure the relationship would heal.

He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t realise how far he’s travelled, it’s only when there’s still no sight of you his grin begins to fade. He should’ve caught up to you by now, this was the route you normally take, and you knew better than to go another way.

What if… no. You wouldn’t dare leave again, you wouldn’t. Jungkook breaks into a sprint, running every route he can think of, not stopping for a moment even when his lungs and legs burn. He’s looking round like a mad man, but he can’t find you. What if something happened? What if someone got to you or hurt you? Memories flash in his mind to long, long ago when that was almost the case. What if?

Shit. A hand to his pocket tells him he’s left his phone, he couldn’t contact the others to join him. His best decision was to get back to the house asap. Jin would still have the tracker on your phone, they would find you, it was all going to be fine.

The fear that seized his heart was not fooled by such idealistic thoughts, his eyes had seen the true brutality of the world, sometimes caused by his own hands, and now his mind played a myriad of images of his little love in all the situations of pain he caused others. He always wondered if karma would catch him one day, he never thought it would take you.

—

He slams the door open so hard it struggles to stay on the hinges.

“I CAN’T FIND HER!” He yells into the open space of the home with all the air in his lungs.

It doesn’t take long for the hoard to assemble.

“What do you mean you can’t find her?” Jin yells back, reaching for his phone to track you without prompt.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the way Namjoon glares at Yoongi, the shorter man ignoring him.

“She’s probably taken another route,” he says calmly. 

“You better hope that’s all,” Namjoon says through gritted teeth. 

“What if someone’s got her?” Jimin panics.

“No,” Hoseok shuts that idea down, “everyone knows there is nowhere in Seoul to hide from us.”

“There’s always one idiot that’s willing to try, or have you forgotten the last time someone tried to take her?” Taehyung says heatedly.

“And we know how that ended,” Hoseok growls back.

The bickering among themselves grows in volume, so loud that they almost miss what Jin says. 

“What?” It’s Yoongi that dares to ask him to repeat himself, the drumming in his ears drowning the words. He must’ve misheard…

“She’s at the police station,” there’s no mistaking it this time. Jin looks solemnly at Namjoon while all their heads spiral.

“She’s not gone there of her own will,” Yoongi shakes his head in denial, “they’ve arrested her or something.”

Namjoon says eerily quiet, his breathing hard, his jaw clenched. 

“Namjoon we own the police,” Hoseok pushes, “make a fucking call see why she’s there.”

“Fuck making a call! I’m going over there,” Jungkook announces, turning back to the front door, but the sight of a police van pulling up at their mansion makes him stop in his tracks. 

“Are they dropping her home,” Jimin asks stupidly, unable to comprehend why else they would be there. 

The older four men look at eachother knowingly. 

“Should we run?” Jin asks, making Taehyung and Jimin whip their heads to stare at him incredulously. 

“Why would we run?” Namjoon breaks his silence, “they’ll take us right to her.”

As if on queue a smoke grenade rolls into the room, blasting off within seconds, covering the air. Namjoon almost laughs, they sent the fucking swat team, how ridiculous when they could’ve settled this like gentlemen.

Bodies swarm in, yelling commands and they all fall to their knees as instructed. On any other day, if you were home, these men wouldn’t make it through the door, but Namjoon was right, they were a one way ticket to finding you.

[redrose10]

Here is the first part! There will end up being a second chapter.

CEO Yoongi x Female Barista/College Student Reader

Title: Cold Brewed Love

Summary: When you begged the owner of Jin’s Java House to hire more employees you didn’t mean for him to stick you with the cold, rude, arrogant CEO Min Yoongi. Over time something begins to brew between you both and you end up forced to make decisions way above the pay grade of a cafe barista.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, hints of smut(nothing explicit), Yoongi is mean but we all know he’ll turn fluffy later, violence, kidnapping, mention of a gun

Word Count: 6,934

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You walked into work today at Jin’s Java House filled with dread at the situation. Lately things had been a nightmare there and you definitely didn’t get paid enough to put up with it. The only reason you hadn’t quit like everyone else was because the owner Jin was very flexible with your schedule and would accommodate your college schedule around your shifts, plus he let you have unlimited free coffee and snacks any time you wanted which really helped your already small bank account.

Your plan was to only work here a few months until something better came along, but now here you were two years later still at the same position as a barista at a coffee shop in the lobby of the largest office building in your city. It got your bills paid and you figured once you graduated college soon you could move on elsewhere.

After you clocked in Jin asked you to meet him in the office so you followed along hoping for good news.

“Y/N this is Jungkook. He’s the new employee I was telling you about. Please make sure he gets up and running before you move to the evening shift.”, he said before walking away to answer a phone call.

“Hi”, Jungkook nervously smiled.

“Hi”, you smiled back, “So the easiest thing to learn would be the register so we will start there.”, you said motioning for him to follow.

Thankfully he was a pretty fast learner. After just about an hour of you showing him the register he was already taking some orders by himself which you were very grateful for and thought maybe things were finally starting to look up.

After the morning rush you were just mindlessly wiping down the counter when Jungkook walked over to you.

“Who is that?”, he asked almost in awe.

You rolled your eyes after quickly recognizing the man walking by in his perfectly tailored suit and slicked back hair with a piece that fell perfectly against his forehead, “That’s Min Yoongi. He’s the CEO of MYG INC.”

“Wow he’s beautiful.”, Jungkook whispered.

You chuckled, “Yeah unfortunately his personality doesn’t match his appearance.”

You braced yourself for a fight with him, but thankfully it seemed like Yoongi was going to pass on the coffee today and headed straight for the elevators instead.

“I take it you’ve had some bad experiences with him?”, Jungkook asked.

“Yeah you could say that”.

You and Yoongi have a difficult history. You are about the same age, but he runs a successful billion dollar company while you make coffee for barely above minimum wage and also take classes at the local college which makes you feel intimidated by him and maybe even a little jealous. And he knows that.

His order was the first one you had ever made. Not only were you nervous because it was your first time, but he was also one of the most handsome men you had ever seen and you developed almost an instant crush on him. You were so nervous in fact that you dropped his cup of coffee making it spill all over the counter and right onto his expensive leather shoes. He was quick to reprimand you to the point his assistant Hoseok stepped in and pulled him away from the counter while giving you an apologetic smile. Hoseok returned later that day to apologize for his boss’ actions and offered to buy you lunch from the neighboring Thai restaurant.

Then just a few months later you had been asked by Jin to take up several cases of pastries to Yoongi’s office for some big meeting they were having. After you placed everything in the break room you quickly moved trying to hurry back down to the cafe to help out your co-worker who was working alone during the breakfast rush in your absence when in your haste you turned and ran right into Yoongi causing the stack of documents he was holding to fly everywhere through the office. He had a scowl and some choice words for you once again while you crawled around on your hands and knees trying to reorganize the mess and not cry in front of him. Hoseok was quick to save you then too and that’s how your friendship with ‘Hobi’ started.

Ever since that day though, Yoongi was always rude to you while ordering his coffee. He purposely got your name wrong even though it was right on your name tag. He hardly ever looked up from his phone and if he did it was only to look down on you and try to make you feel small. You hated him. But you hated it even more that no matter how much you hated him you couldn’t abolish the little crush you had on him. He was easily one of, if not your least favorite customer to deal with and you couldn’t ever see that changing.

A few weeks go by and thankfully Jungkook was getting faster and faster, but at the end of the day he was still on the newer side. Jin hired two more people, Jimin and Taehyung but they weren’t going to be starting for another week. Taehyung was going to work mornings with Jungkook and Jimin was going to work the evening shift with you. Today was your last morning shift because your classes started in a couple days so you begged Jin for a few days off to relax and reset which he approved after convincing his sister to come help out at the cafe for a few days.

Jungkook was manning the register as usual since he was much more of people person than you were while you worked away at making the orders.

It was a particularly busy day, worse than usual. There was a huge conference being held in one of the offices bringing in lots of out of town customers as well as your regulars. Jungkook was doing his best to take orders on his own leaving you to have to do all of the prep and stocking as well as make everything ordered.

You stared out at the sea of people letting out a sigh before returning back to the drink you were working on.

You were making a particularly difficult drink when Jungkook nervously stepped up next to you. “Y/N there is a customer at the register that wants to speak to the manager.”, he whispered.

You technically weren’t a manager, but you were the closest there was so you made a mental note to talk to Jin about a promotion and a raise before taking a deep breath to steady your nerves.

“Please hand this drink to order 613. I’ll handle the complaint.”, you said before grabbing a few free drink coupons as an apology.

Stepping up to the counter you felt your stomach twist at the sight. This wasn’t going to be any normal complaint. Not only did you have to apologize for something out of your control, but you had to apologize to your least favorite customer, Mr. Min Yoongi.

He didn’t even give you a chance to speak before he started, “The wait time is ridiculous. There is no reason that it should take nearly twenty-five minutes in line to get a mediocre cup of coffee.”

“I know Sir. I apologize. It’s just Jungkook and I and he’s still pretty new. We’re trying our best.”

“Clearly your best is not good enough. I don’t know how you can get any lower than a measly coffee maker, but maybe you should try something else.”

“Again I apologize Sir. Here are some coupons for free drinks and I’ll make sure to speak with the owner about improving our processes.”, you said still trying to be professional.

He scoffed, “Do I look like I need coupons for a free drink?“

“No, but there is not much else I can offer you. I apologize for the long wait, but as I said we’re trying our best.”

“Do better because this is unacceptable.”, he spat before leaving his coffee and walking way.

At that point the wall you built up crumbled and tears began to fall freely.

“Hey go in the back and take a few. I’ll be okay.”, Jungkook said.

“No it’s okay. I have to make the orders.”

“Y/N, go. I’ll be okay. I’ll make some of the drinks that I know and then ones I don’t I’ll just wing it. I mean they can’t get any more upset than they already are so what’s a wrong drink going to do.”, he chuckled.

You nodded and walked to the back for a few minutes.

You couldn’t believe the audacity of Yoongi. Like sure the wait times were terrible, but it’s not like he couldn’t afford to just order coffee from somewhere else or send Hobi to get it. You felt like he purposely just wanted to ruin your day and that hurt more than it should have.

After taking a small break you returned to the front thankful that Jungkook had everything taken care of. It seemed like most of the line left after Yoongi’s spectacle and you walking away so there were only a few people left.

“See I told you I could handle it.”, Jungkook smiled as he was clearly making the wrong drink, but judging by the puppy dog eyes the girl at the counter was giving him you didn’t think she’d really care anyways.

“Thank you Kookie. That break really helped.”, you said giving his arm a squeeze.

When your shift finally ended you said goodbye to Jungkook and left for home. Exhausted you plopped down on your couch taking out your phone.

You: Is your boss PMSing or something? He was an even bigger jerk than normal today.

Hobi: Ohhh that’s probably what he was mumbling about when he got in.

You: What?

Hobi: Nothing, it’s nothing. Yeah sorry about him. He’s trying to close this really important deal or something. He always gets like this when he’s working on that. Plus I think his parents are on his case about something.

You: Well he should learn to keep his emotions to himself before he really hurts someone.

Hobi: I thought you said he was an emotionless robot…

You: 😑

Your mini vacation was much needed especially after your latest Yoongi encounter, but it went by way too fast for your liking. Classes started up again and they were already kicking your ass. You moved to the evening shift at work which was a nice change of pace. It was a little slower than the mornings and although you missed Jungkook you were getting along great with Jimin.

Earlier today Jin had texted you to let you know a new employee would be starting at night. He didn’t give you much info other than he’d only be working part time and you were oddly warned not to have sex in the office because this guy was apparently super hot. You were just excited to get another worker so maybe you could eventually reduce your hours a little and take some of the stress off so you weren’t going to complain.

Your shift was going by extremely slow so you had your back to the counter as you wiped down one of the old machines trying to accomplish something for the day. From behind you someone cleared their throat making you jump a little.

“Hi welcome to Jin’s Java House how can I help you today?”

You stopped in your tracks feeling your heart speed up, “M-Mr.Min?”, you asked.

He rolled his eyes before grabbing an apron from the rack.

“Uh Mr. Min?”, you questioned.

He looked more pissed off than ever.

“Y/N”, he said finally looking at your name tag, “I guess I am your new coworker for the next several weeks. Maybe I’ll be able to to come up with a better system to solve the slow service around here.”

“Umm uh sir? W-what do you mean coworker?”

He rolled his eyes again, “Obviously I mean we are working together.”

“I know what a coworker is. My question is why is a successful billionaire ceo working at a coffee shop for minimum wage?”

“Because my lovely parents think I need to learn some humility and how to talk to people other than just demanding things. They said I do this or they’re removing me from the company so I have no choice.”, he said picking at some lint on his shirt.

“So I’m working here for a little. I figured if anyone knows some humbleness it’s a nobody coffee maker.”

Being the reliable hard worker you are you sucked it up, “Okay sir. The easiest thing is to learn the register first.”

He followed you over to where the computer was located.

“Okay so this row is the specials. This row is basic coffees. Then when you select a coffee it asks if you want to add any thing. That’s where you’ll find the flavorings and toppings. This row is cold drinks. This row is baked goods.”

You noticed he was very quiet so when you looked up you weren’t surprised to see him staring at some blond in a very short pencil skirt sitting at one of the cafe tables. It did make you feel a sting of jealousy, but you quickly shook that away.

“Are you even listening?”, you questioned.

“Y/N, I run a billion dollar company. I think I can figure out a few buttons on a computer screen at a coffee shop.”, he smirked.

“Okay, here’s your first customer.”, you smiled as Mrs. Kang walked up to the counter. She was a familiar regular who was notoriously difficult and you couldn’t wait to watch Yoongi crash and burn.

“Hi, welcome to Jin’s Java House, how can I help you?”, he greeted her as cocky as ever.

“Sure can I get a medium coffee with two pumps of hazelnut, half a pump of vanilla but make sure it’s only half a pump. Last time they definitely put too much. I want the coffee fresh brewed but a mix of the house blend and the cinnamon nut. Then also add a caramel swirl and use half oat milk half almond milk that is warmed up so it doesn’t cool the coffee too much. I also want a banana nut muffin on the side but warm it up also.”

You felt a deep sense of happiness as you watched Yoongi’s fingers hover over the buttons unsure of how to complete the order. Reluctantly he looked at you for assistance.

You showed him how to type in the order while Jimin got to work making it.

That was definitely a humbling experience for Yoongi who was much more open to help after that.

The following few weeks flew by between your classes and shifts at the coffee shop. You and Yoongi were working surprisingly well together. He was actually a decent worker and wasn’t as insufferable to be around.

“Y/N please stop calling me Sir.”, he said one evening.

“I’m sorry it’s just a habit.”

“Well please just call me Yoongi. Sir is reserved for other things.”, he smirked.

You quickly turned away hoping to hide your blushing cheeks from him.

He even apologized for always treating you so coldly, especially that one day he made you run in the back and cry. He chuckled saying Hobi heard him ranting about how much of an idiot he was. He said he came down later in the day to apologize, but you were already gone and he said it bothered him ever since. There was a small shift in your relationship after that.

He had texted you earlier today to let you know that he was going out and wouldn’t be working tonight which kind of made you feel a little as as you had grown to look forward to working with him.

“I strive to be like him one day. Rich, successful, good looking, always having a hot woman on my arm.”, Jimin sighed.

You spun around just in time to see Yoongi walking through the lobby towards the door with the pencil skirt blonde tightly clinging to his arm as he licked his lips while looking down at her.

You don’t know what you expected when he said he was going out or why that sight made your chest tighten, but you quickly returned to portioning out coffee beans so Jimin wouldn’t see your eyes watering.

Maybe you were naive or just had too much wishful thinking, but you had really thought that maybe there was a small chance Yoongi was starting to like you too. You noticed his gaze lingering a little longer than it used it. How he’d “accidentally” bump into you or brush his fingers against your skin. How he started showing up a little earlier every shift and would immediately make his way over to you. But apparently it was all in your head. The more you thought about it the more you felt silly for thinking someone like him could ever be interested in someone like you. So you spent the rest of the shift trying to keep your thoughts away from what Yoongi was up to.

After last night you were thankful it was Saturday because Yoongi never worked weekends which meant you could avoid him for a couple days.

Unfortunately for you, luck was not on your side because when you arrived for your shift Yoongi was already behind the counter.

You faked a smile as you rounded the counter to grab your apron with Yoongi following behind with a red drink in his hands.

“I got you a smoothie from that health place down the street.”

You looked at him confused.

“I just thought you might be sick of coffee.”, he said feeling self conscious all of a sudden for some reason.

“Oh thank you. I’m sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you to be working today.”, you said taking the drink from him.

Shyly he scratched the back of his neck, “Oh yeah I figured since I couldn’t work yesterday I’d pick up a few hours tonight.”

You nodded before clocking in and heading over to wipe down the already clean counter just to avoid him. Being around him made you feel so confused and conflicted and you didn’t have it in you to deal with that right now.

“How was your date last night? She was hot. I bet you had a good time with her.”, Jimin smirked as he handed Yoongi a cup to fill.

You happened to look up noticing Yoongi quickly turn away from you, but you didn’t miss the slight blush on his cheeks.

He turned back to Jimin, “Yeah she was alright.”

“You gonna see her again? Does she have any single friends or maybe a hot older sister?”

You rolled your eyes before walking away not really wanting to hear Yoongi’s answer anyways.

As days went on you got over Yoongi and the pencil skirt incident until it was Friday and yet again Yoongi texted you that he couldn’t work because he would be going out.

Before he left the office he stopped over at the coffee shop.

As much as you wanted to you couldn’t stop staring. He looked good. His suit jacket was thrown over his shoulder. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up giving you a great view of his hands and forearms that you weirdly loved. His hair was messily styled after the gel gave out from hours of work. As he walked up to the counter you were hit with the scent of his cologne, a comforting cinnamon and vanilla that made you think of eating Christmas cookies by the fire place.

“I thought you were going out?”, you asked sounding more hurt than you wanted.

“Meeting that hot blonde again?”, Jimin asked wiggling his eyebrows.

Yoongi chuckled, “No not tonight. I’m just meeting my parents for dinner at that new sushi place everyone’s talking about. I thought I’d stop by and see if either of you wanted me to bring you something back for dinner.”

Your heart felt warmed that the once cold CEO was now going out of the way to see if you wanted food and you also selfishly felt joy at the fact that he wasn’t meeting that woman again tonight.

“Oh my god yes! I’m starving!”, Jimin excitedly exclaimed making you and Yoongi laugh. As you watched Yoongi write down Jimins order someone walked up to the counter and cleared their throat. Expecting a customer you were happily surprised to see Jungkook.

“Kookie!!”, you shouted jogging around the corner and into his arms missing the scowl that crossed Yoongi’s face.

“What are you doing here? I feel like I haven’t seen you in months.”

“I was in the area and thought I’d stop by to get a coffee and say hi.”

As you walked over to the register to ring in an employee drink Yoongi leaned forward over the counter motioning for Jimin to do the same.

“Who is that?”, Yoongi whispered.

“Ummm that is Jungkook. He works on the morning shift. Haven’t you seen him before?”

Now that Jimin mentioned it he did remember seeing this kid working at the coffee shop. He didn’t like him back then and he really didn’t like him now watching him as he flexed his muscles in a tight black tshirt while you excitedly told him about the paper you were writing for your philosophy class. Yoongi wondered if maybe he should start going to the gym more. He also felt a bit of jealousy watching you so easily talk to Jungkook. You always acted so scared of him which he knew was mostly his own fault, but still. He wished you could freely talk about your life with him or that you would act that excited when he walked in. He also wished Jimin would stop bringing up that woman. He didn’t even remember her name. He had zero real interest in her and just wanted to have a distraction to try and stop his growing crush for you because he knew at the of the day you deserved better than him. But then he saw the look on your face as he walked out of the office building with her that night and he couldn’t take it. He gave the woman some money to buy dinner as an apology and also keep her quiet and went home by himself wishing he was as work with you instead.

And now here you were flirting with this Kookie guy right in front of him.

“Hello earth to Yoongi.”, Jimin said waving his hands in his face.

“Sorry what was that?”

“I changed my mind. I want a rainbow roll instead of the eel roll.”

“Oh yeah sure. Whatever you want.”, he said going to write that down when he saw it. You using your fingers to trace over Jungkook’s new tattoo as he conveniently flexed his bicep at the same time and that was it.

Yoongi never thought of himself as a jealous man because if one woman broke his heart he could have another replacing her that same night, but there was something different about you. And watching this all unfold made him turn green with envy.

He took out his wallet and handed Jimin a card, “Here take my card and go order whatever you want. Get something for Y/N too. I’ll cover your shift while you’re gone.”

Jimin looked at the shiny black card and wasn’t about to question him so he happily threw his apron down on the counter before sprinting for the door.

Yoongi picked up the apron putting it on trying to cover as much of his outfit as he could regretting not bringing a change of clothes since Gucci and coffee didn’t really mix.

As he walked around the counter you looked at him stunned, “What are you doing? I thought you had to meet your parents? And where is Jimin?”

Yoongi finished washing his hands before he walked back over to you, “I gave Jimin my card and told him to go get us dinner. Seemed like he needed a break. My parents will understand. I mean, me working here was their idea to begin with.”

“Oh okay.”, you replied still suspicious but there wasn’t anything you could do anyways.

Jungkook was quick to sense the tension in the air so he gave you both a goodbye before grabbing his drink and practically jogging out of the building.

“So uh how are your um classes going? What’s your major again?”, he nervously asked.

“Oh they’re alright. Lots of work.”, you chuckled, “My major is in marketing with a minor in communications.”

“Wow that’s pretty amazing. You must have big plans for once you graduate.”

“Yeah I guess. Maybe I’ll work for one of your rivals one day.”, you joked getting a laugh out of him.

Jimin seemed to be taking his time getting dinner which left you and Yoongi alone with each other until a familiar face showed up at the counter.

“Hey Namjoon, what are you doing here?”, you asked.

“Hi Y/N, I’m checking out the new art exhibit up the street and thought I’d grab a coffee first. I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Yeah have to get myself through college somehow.”

“Hey a jobs a job. Did you get your results back from Mrs. Cho’s class? That test kicked my ass.”

You giggled, “Yeah tell me about it. I studied for days and still barely squeaked by.”

Yoongi watched the scene unfold before him. “What is going on around here tonight?”, he thought to himself. You flirting with a tall handsome guy with cute dimples who was smart and artistic and friendly and Yoongi felt his blood boil again as he watched him flirt right back. He knew he couldn’t take much more of this.

As soon as Namjoon said goodbye he walked up next to you.

“Maybe we should call Jimin. Knowing him he’s probably going on a shopping spree with your card right now.”, you laughed turning to look at Yoongi.

He stood in front of you not saying anything. His hands were sweating and he felt like he was going to throw up. He leads very important meetings with some of the most powerful people in the world with ease. He’s had to fire people two days before Christmas and didn’t think twice about it. He’s faced his parents and told them off like he had a death wish but it didn’t phase him. But standing here in front of you was the most nervous he had ever been.

“Will you go out with me?”, he blurted out unsure of where this sudden confidence boost came from.

“I’m sorry what?”, you questioned.

“Y/N, will you please go out with me?”

“Like on a date??”

“Yes…like on a date…with me…Min Yoongi…and you…”

Internally you swooned seeing how nervous and flustered he was, but you did your best to remain cool on the outside.

“Yes, I would like to go on a date with you…Min Yoongi.”

You nervously paced around your bedroom that was littered with different dresses and skirts and shoes. Sure you had been on dates before but never with enemy turned lovers that were also successful billionaire ceos.

“Seriously, Yoongi isn’t going to care what you wear. He doesn’t worry about stuff like that.”, Hobi chuckled from where he was laid out on your bed snacking on some of your chips.

“Yeah well I’ve seen the women he’s left the office with over the years and I beg to differ.”

“Yeah and 99% of those women were one night stands that he just used to get his dick wet. Y/N trust me. He likes you more than that.”

“Really?”, you questioned.

Hobi nodded, “He’s been a nervous wreck all week. I swear I’ve had to cancel fifteen different reservations because he never thought the restaurant was good enough. He’s called every florist in the city looking for a bouquet that he felt was pretty enough for you. And you didn’t hear this from me and I’ll throw you right under the bus if you say you did, but he even had Jimin come up to our office yesterday and I heard Yoongi asking him for romance tips.”

“Whaaattt?”, you stated in shock.

“Mmhmm yes ma’am. I know it’s hard to believe, but Yoongi doesn’t usually do romance. He’s more of a fuck ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy. So he is really trying to impress you.”

You knew Hobi was trying to help, but now you were even more nervous than before.

After settling on a simple black dress with your “comfy” heels Hobi left you with a hug and made you promise to text him afterwards so he could get all the details.

Yoongi was exactly on time as he nervously handed you a beautiful bouquet of red, white, and pink roses.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”, you smiled quickly placing them in a vase of water.

Offering you his hand he lead you out to a waiting car that quickly sped off to your destination after you were settled in.

“You look very nice tonight Y/N.”, he blushed.

“You looking really nice yourself.”, you added. And he did. He was dressed down from his usual business suit, but somehow still dressed up for the date. He wore perfectly tailored black dress pants and a slim fitting black dress shirt tucked in with the sleeves rolled up just like you liked. He had a few dainty bracelets and some earrings on to accessorize the look which was finished off with his hair lightly styled. His cologne was intoxicating like something you’d never smelled before. Masculine but yet soft and gentle much like the person who was wearing it. He looked incredible and it took everything in you not to beg him to take you in the back of the car right then.

The restaurant, of course, was fancy and expensive and you would have never even set foot in it if it wasn’t for Yoongi.

“I hope this okay. Now that I think about it should’ve asked you where you wanted to go. I’m sorry. We can go somewhere else if you would like. I don’t know if you even like steak.”, he ranted after noticing you staring in awe.

You shook your head, “Yoongi this is great. Everything looks so good. I can’t decide what to get.”

“Well order whatever you want.”, he smiled trying to relax a little.

Dinner went smoothly. The food and drinks were good. Yoongi was a great conversationist once he got rid of some of his nerves. You had a great time and when he walked you back up to your apartment you felt a sense of nervousness about what the next move should be.

As you awkwardly stood in front of your door you could feel the tension between you both until Yoongi broke it and chuckled, “I’m sorry I’m kind of new at all of this. I don’t usually take women on actual dates.”

You laughed along with him, “That’s okay. Just do what feels right to you.”

Taking a step forward he placed his hands on your hips, “Right now it feels right to kiss you.”

“Then do it.”, You replied trying to hide the quiver in your voice.

A simple kiss turned into another turned into hands wandering and undoing belts and removing clothes until you were both naked under the covers of your bed entangled with one another.

When you woke up the following morning with Yoongi’s naked chest pressed closely against your bare back and his arms still tightly wrapped around your waist you felt the most content you had in a long time. A feeling you didn’t know was possible.

“How was your date with Yoongi last night?”, Jin questioned when you walked in for your Saturday evening shift. You looked around surprised. The only people that new about your date were Hobi and Jimin. You knew Hobi and Jin had never even met let alone talked so you through a glare in Jimin’s direction who put his hands up in defense as if to say he had nothing to do with it.

Jin continued, “It’s all over the internet. I knew the two of you would end up together. That’s why I said no office sex.”

In a panic you took out your phone and started searching. Sure enough the first headline you read was ‘MYG INC.’s Min Yoongi Finally Settling Down?’ Another one read ‘Who Is the Mystery Girl That Stole the Heart of One of the Worlds Most Wanted Bachelors’. Both were accompanied by photos of you and Yoongi at the restaurant, driving in his car, and even walking into your apartment building.

“What? I didn’t know we were even being followed.”, you whispered to yourself.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Must be a slow news day. It’ll be forgotten about by tomorrow.”, Jimin said while clocking in.

You pulled out your phone about to call Yoongi when you already heard his voice behind you.

He leaned on the counter giving you a sad smile.

“What are you doing here?”, you asked.

“I have some work stuff I need to get done so I thought I’d come into the office. I’m guessing you saw the news?”

You nodded, “Yeah I have.”

You noticed that Yoongi seemed uncomfortable maybe even worried about something.

He shook his head, “This is so fucked up. I didn’t think anyone would follow us. The last thing I wanted was for it to get out that I was dating you.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, “Are you embarrassed to be with me?”

Yoongi looked like he could cry. Frantically he reached over to grab your hand shaking his head, “God no Y/N. I would never be embarrassed to be with you. There’s just a lot of crazy people in this world you know and I just want to keep you safe. That’s all.”

Something about his words didn’t sit right with you, but in the moment you chose to let it go.

“I have to get upstairs, but call me at the end of your shift.”, he said leaning in for a kiss before deciding against it after noticing a customer walk up to the counter. Instead giving your hand a quick squeeze before walking to the elevators.

Before you knew it your shift was over. Taking out your phone and sitting down at one of the empty tables you called Yoongi who answered on the first ring like he had been waiting all day for your call.

“Hey baby, How was work?”

“Alright. Jimin tripped and fell face first into a piece of chocolate cake he was carrying which was pretty hysterical.”

Yoongi chuckled at that, “I wish I could’ve seen that. Where are you now?”

“Just sitting next to the cafe. I think I’m going to go home and get something to eat. What about you?”

“I have to have an emergency meeting in a few minutes with our partners in Japan. There was a big dip in profits in that market so we need to figure out a plan. Shouldn’t be too long though.”

“I know you’ll figure it out. Call me when you’re done with your meeting.”

“Hey uh Y/N, how about you go to my place instead?”

“Okay yeah that sounds good? I’ll just stop home and change and then head over.”

“No!…I uh…I mean why go out of your way? My place is just down the street from the office building. I’ll call the guards and let them know to let you in. I’ll text you the address and the entrance code. Just go in and shower, find something of mine to wear, get a snack if you want. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way and I’ll order us dinner.”

“Okkkkaaaay. I’ll see you later.”

“”Alright babe I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight.”

You hung up feeling very confused if not even concerned. You knew you would eventually go to his place, but you didn’t expect it to be so suddenly and with him being so pushy about it too.

“You hanging out with Yoongi tonight?”, Jimin asked taking a seat next to you.

“Uh yeah I guess so. He wants me to go straight to his place.”

“Wow he doesn’t waste any time does he? He’s a man who knows what he wants.”, Jimin chuckled.

You laughed with him, but then were smacked in the face with a sudden realization.

There was no way in hell you were going to let Yoongi, the guy you’ve been dating less than a day and also successful rich ceo, see you in your purple polka dot granny panties and mismatched sports bra. You hadn’t even washed your hair from last night and you definitely could already feel some stubble on your legs. None of this would bother you if you two had been together for a while but with the relationship being so new you still wanted to impresses him. Yoongi did say to head straight for his place, but you knew his “quick” meeting was probably to going to be a while so you could make it home, shower, and change into something nicer and then head to Yoongi’s and he’d never know and you were sure he’d appreciate it.

“Great work today Jimin! Gotta go.”, you said jumping up and running towards the door leaving Jimin behind looking dumbfounded.

Once in your bedroom you grabbed the white lace lingerie set that you thankfully decided to splurge on as a birthday gift to yourself a few months ago and started heading towards your bathroom when you felt someone grab you from behind.

For a minute you thought maybe Yoongi’s meeting really had been quick and he beat you home until an unfamiliar voice spoke, “Gotcha! Don’t fight or make this difficult. It’ll only make it worse for you.“

You tried your best to break free elbowing the guy in the throat and you managed to escape to the bathroom slamming shut and locking the door behind you.

You knew you should’ve called the police first, but at that moment there was only one person you could think about. Quickly you dialed Yoongi’s number, but it went straight to voicemail. He must still be in the meeting and had his phone shut off.

“Yoongi please help me.”, you screamed., “I went home. I’m sorry I know you said not to but I didn’t think anything would happen. There’s a man here. He broke in and he’s trying to kidnap me or something. I need you Yoongi.”Just as you hung up and we’re about to call the police there were now two men who busted through the bathroom door that was separating you from them.

“I told you not to make this difficult.”, the man from earlier spat as he picked you up by your wrists and began dragging you down the hallway. You tried to fight back but ultimately they overpowered you.

“For fucks sake I didn’t think that guy was ever going to shut up.”, Yoongi groaned with a stretch.

“Yeah that meeting took a lot longer than it should have. I’ll have the summary notes typed up and on your desk within an hour.”, Hoseok replied.

“No it can wait until Monday. Go home and relax.”, Yoongi said with a smile.

“Ahhh so not only does my best friend enjoy the benefits of boyfriend Yoongi but I also get them?”, he smirked.

“Go, before I change my mind.”

Hoseok laughed, but quickly exited the office knowing his boss really could change his mind.

Yoongi finally pulled out his phone noticing the missed call and voice email from you. He didn’t think much of it at first until the recording started playing and all the blood drained from his face. He felt like he could pass out.

He grabbed his keys and began sprinting through the office building out to the garage. He jumped in his car speeding off completely barreling through the security gate. He tried calling you over and over but there was no answer.

His car stopped in front of your apartment. Yoongi reached over into the glove box grabbing the loaded hand gun he had hidden there and thanked the stars he decided to drive himself to work today instead of having a driver pick him up like he usually would.

He ran up the six flights of stairs to your floor like they were nothing. The adrenaline running through his body made him feel like he’s was on a high and unstoppable.

Entering your apartment he drew his gun, but then immediately saw the clear signs that there had been a struggle. He checked every room, under the bed, in the closets. He screamed your name, but there was no answer.

He dropped down on the couch before running his hands over his face and groaning, “Fuck! I fucking knew something like this would happen.”

He stood up and walked to the door where right in front of his face was a note that was stabbed into the wall with a bloody knife,

“Min Yoongi, We told you not to fuck with us, but you didn’t listen. Now we have your girl and one of you is going to pay the price to make things right.”

[lostbookmark]

WHISPERED SECRETS Masterlist

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

INTERLUDE: The Flashbacks

Chapter Eight

Chapte Nine: The Epilogue

[yooglefics]

hii! its been a few days since i found u and i love ur writing and stories!! could i request a fic where yoongi and (possibly) female reader have a fight over jealousy (its either her or him or both even idk) and its a little angsty idk but then they make up and its all fluffy 🤓🤓 thank u in advance luv

Hellooo. Thank you so much for your kind words and for requesting this! I really enjoyed writing this pair and some angst, I did a hint of both being jealousy, but is mostly him haha. Sorry it took me a while to finally post it, but I wanted it to be good, and I hope you like it!

Jealous, jealousy

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader  Wordcount: 2,467 words Genre: AU. Established relationship. Angst and comfort / fluff.  Summary: Jealousy has never been a problem in your relationship, not until a comment can't leave Yoongi's mind and interactions at your office’s party just make it worse. Content warnings under read more.

Includes: Jealous Yoongi. People thinking there's something between Jin and Reader… even Yoongi. Miscommunication. They argue. And then they're cute.

It all starts with the perilla leave question between Yoongi's friends one night out and a few rounds of soju in. As a self-identified non-jealous person, his answer was that it didn't mean anything, and even told the story about how it happened a few days ago when your coworker joined you two for lunch.

Jungkook, the non-identified most jealous person of the group, had obviously called him stupid. Questioned him about that guy and told him to be careful. “If I were you, Yoongi, I'd keep my eye on him.”

Little rascal; didn't even bother to use honorifics with him anymore.

But the worst thing is that the idea is now on his head and not even Yoongi knows how bad it is about to get as he steps into your office party a few weeks later. Now having the opportunity to see his girlfriend and her favorite coworker interact more in a familiar environment.

Even the ones who don't know Yoongi a lot, know he can be pretty reserved around new people, that's why you continue to make your polite round of interactions after saying hi and leaving him at a table with a whiskey and snacks. Promising to come back as soon as possible.

He looks at you across the room, all professional and sweet, the queen of small talk and polite smiles, and one forms on his own lips without realizing. Only doing so when it's erased as someone greets him, sitting down beside him and he tries to follow your steps at looking, at least, a bit cordial. 

“I don't think I've seen you before. Are you here with ( y / n ) or Seokjin?”

“Yes, with ( y / n ).”

“Really?” She sounds genuinely surprised, “I didn't know she was inviting someone.” 

“Well, I like supporting her, don't really need the invitation” he chuckles a bit awkwardly, “I'm her boyfriend.”

“Oh, so she is dating someone?” Again, the surprise in her tone makes Yoongi believe is a true emotion, and that confuses him.

“For a few years now, yes.”

“And here I was thinking that those two were going to be the next office romance,” she says sounding disappointed before realizing, “oh my— not that it's bad they don't, just… they are both attractive and you know…”

«Is that supposed to make it better?», he wants to ask, but instead he laughs, trying to dismiss everything as her hand lays on his forearm that is resting on the table, trying to reassure him as she goes on about him being handsome too and whatnot.

He stopped listening now. Because after that interaction, one hour seems long enough when half of that you have spent besides that guy, and Jungkook's words keep growing in his head as if he were watering them with the sweet alcohol. The one he has to switch hands to sip from now, because your coworker keeps the other prisoner of her hand. 

Not even the excuse ( that is actually not really an excuse because he needs it ) to get a refill works and she only stops rambling his ear off when someone arrives at the place and she finally leaves the table to greet them.

“I saw you made a friend,” your sweet smile is almost enough to make him forget his thoughts when he is joined by you at the bar while ordering another whiskey.

“Well, figure I should while you had fun with yours.” he shrugs in an effort to dismiss negative feelings.

“Wait, did you actually make friends with her?” is your turn to sound surprised, corners of your mouth falling a little.

“Is a problem if I did?”

“I… I mean, I was joking but I don't like her very much. You can make friends with other people, though.”

“Ah, thanks for the clear up.” He walks back to the table to sit down, and even he can acknowledge it was a weird response, so, your next question doesn’t shock him.

“Are you okay?”

“What if I made friends with your best friend, what's his name?” he asks instead. Comments from others blurring his psyche, making him act without much thinking.

“Jin?”

“Is that his name? She called him Seokjin”

“Well, Seokjin, Jin for short. What's the big deal?”

“Nothing. Just… that's what she said when she asked who I was here with,” he explains before taking a sip.

“Of course she asked you that,” and eye roll accompanies your words. 

“Yeah, because apparently you didn't say you invited your boyfriend.” but he thinks there is more important matters than you not liking your coworker. “As a matter of fact she didn't know you had a boyfriend.”

“Because is none of her business. She doesn't need to know about my relationship.”

“She does when she is talking about you and Seokjin having a romance.”

“What?!”

“Sorry. You and Jin.”

“Shut up, you know that's not what I meant. Can't believe she said that.” You steal a sip from his whiskey before continuing, “No actually, I can.”

He buffs. “You can?”

“Yeah, I told you, she is… not likable.”

“Just that? Not because it would be believable for you two to be together?” He asks, his annoyance clearer as seconds go by.

“Jin and I? Please, that's ridiculous.”

“Okay.”

“Why? Are you jealous?” You inquire, playfully. As if it would be impossible to be true.

“Yes.”

“Wait. Really?! But you have never been jealous.”

“Maybe I am now.” 

“Because of Jin?” you’re confused at how serious he is being, but before you can question more about it, you’re interrupted by said guy.

“Oh, I was summoned. Hi.” he greets your partner, so casually since he doesn’t realize Yoongi is mad with him too. “Can you come back? I don't want to interact with those people alone.”

You look at your co-worker and friend for a few seconds, and then to your boyfriend, trying to understand what is happening and if he is actually jealous. Him, Min Yoongi, the less jealous person you’ve ever met.

“Go, have fun.” Your boyfriend encourages you, managing a smile that only confuses you more because is clear to you that it’s not genuine.

What the hell is happening?

You’re surrounded with interactions the rest of the night, from your co-workers to their partners, people seem interested in Jin and you, after all, it’s the first big party since the both of you joined the company. Even when you go back to sit with Yoongi people get close to make conversation, one person actually asks about wedding planing and tells you she can get you in contact with someone. You know she means well so, with your best smile, you thank her and change the subject.

You hate those conversations. 

Having spent your childhood between your parents’ fights because «staying together for their kids» was a priority, when in reality it only made it worse for everyone involved, you grew up hating the idea of getting married. You understand it is for love, but you don't need a paper or a big party to announce that you love Yoongi. You don't need a ring on your finger to promise you'll do it forever. You don't need him to propose, let alone ask your parents permission to do so. 

Is your life, your decisions. The only opinion that matters other than yours is Yoongi's and he has always understood, never pressured you. He is the love of your life, after all.

In the car on the way home, the silence is filled with music from the stereo and you try to take Yoongi’s hand on the gear lever as always, but only a couple of seconds pass before he pulls away, both hands on the wheel now. 

Trying to figure out if it was on purpose, you ask, “What are you thinking about?” 

“You spend a lot of time with him,” he says without a beat.

“You told me to go.”

“I mean in general.”

“We work together, can't really do much about that.”

“You weren't working tonight and still it was like you were joined at the hip.” he hasn’t looked at you and you can’t decide if it hurts or bothers you more.

“Again, you told me to go at the end,” you argue. “ If you wanted me to stay with you, you could have said so.”

“Now I have to ask you to spend time with me?”

“Well, I can’t read your mind, honey.” you poke his cheek, softly. An attempt to lighten the mood a little.

“That’s not the point.” His tone is just as serious. And then you know that, whatever this is, it’s deeper than you thought.

“What is it then?” you genuinely ask, annoyance starting to build up inside you, but trying to stay calm. Surely he can tell, you think. “You’re clearly upset, but why?”

“Shouldn't I be? When my girlfriend keeps hanging out with this good-looking dude and everyone thinks they could be a thing?” 

“Really?” How can he even entertain those thoughts? You with another man? Doesn’t he hear how ridiculous it sounds? “Shouldn't I be upset because you let her touch your arm for like five minutes straight?”

“She was trying to console me.”

“Yeah, that actually makes it worse, Yoongi.” 

“Yoongi?” 

“That's your name.” He finally looks your way, but you’re looking at the road ahead of you and he can’t tell it is just in order to calm down.

“Wait. Why are you turning things on me?”

“Because you're being irrational and I'm not having this conversation.”

Once again the music is the only sound filling the air, and you opt for folding your arms in front of your chest to stop you from reaching for his hand again.

Now both of you are mad. Great. 

Arriving home, he still gets out of the car first to open the door for you, and it helps soften the heartache a little. But still, the night repeats in your head, trying to understand what happened. 

Why suddenly spending time with Jin is a problem? Why is Yoongi so jealous about it? And why—

“You let her touch you after she said Jin and I had a thing?” you ask as both of you are finally in the bedroom, getting ready to end the night. 

“Thought we weren't having this conversation.”

“No. This one is different. This one is about you potentially doing things because you were upset with me.”

“That would be stupid.” He stops his movements, shirt unbuttoned just halfway through. “Why would I do that?”

“I don't know, you aren't exactly acting like yourself tonight.”

“Because I'm jealous?”

“Because we are fighting about you being jealous.” And trying to calm down once again, you continue taking your dress off, struggling with the zipper but too proud to ask him for help right now.

“Okay, let's not fight, then.” He sits down on his side of the bed. “Just answer this question: do you like him?” 

“Yoongi—” 

“Just answer. Please.” when you finally turn to him, the look on his face is different from what you expected. He doesn't seem angry, but hurt. Like your answer could break him.

“Of course not. Not like that.” You emphasize. Giving up on your clothes and kneeling in front of him, taking a breath before continuing. “You know we started at the same time and he is always nice and fun, I think he is my only friend at work because everyone else keeps asking me when I'm going to get married and leave. Like your friend.”

“What?”

“The lady you were talking to. Is always asking personal questions and I don't like it. Not because I don't like talking about you, I love you and I talk with Jin about you all the time, but is just…”

“Not her business. And you don't have to explain yourself to others.” he completes. Yoongi is the first to always remind you that after all.

“Exactly.” 

“Sorry.” he is quick to say, feeling like an asshole now, a hand running through his hair, messing it up, “I really don’t know what is up with me tonight, I’m sorry.”

“Were you actually jealous of Jin?” the disbelief in your voice is funny now, and he nods with a chuckle. “That’s surprising coming from you.”

“I know. Is dumb.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” you move closer to him, hands on his shoulders to make him look at you, “your feelings are not dumb, Yoongi.”

“Can you stop calling me by my name tonight?”

“Sorry,” both of you laugh softly, “but I mean it. Even if it’s irrational to be jealous of anyone because I love you so very much and wouldn’t even dream to be with someone else; your feelings are important, honey. Just… you know, we have to work on a better way of expressing them.”

He chuckles again, still feeling bad about it all but appreciating the reassurance. “I will, promise. I just never felt like this before, is… weird.”

Yoongi has always thought jealousy is stupid. He understands feeling insecure and all that, but acting like he did tonight has always been something he didn’t understand. Something he judged. He thought it was about bad communication, distrusting your partner, and things like that. And, if you don’t trust the person you love, does it make sense to be together? But maybe is not as simple as that.

He didn't care if you had your own friends and went out with them, like some of the people he knows do. He has his own opinion on marriage and engagement rings. But maybe he cares in other ways. Maybe he cares about people thinking you're with someone else because that's probably his biggest fear.

“I don’t like jealousy.” he speaks again, bringing his arms around your waist, hugging you close and resting his head against your torso.

“Good, that means you are not toxic.” A pause while your hand combs through his hair, putting black strains back in place, “and now you know how I feel when people hit on you.”

“People don’t do that.” 

“They do,” he looks up at you, but before he can argue anything, you cup his face and bend a little to peck his lips, softly. “I’m sorry for leaving you alone with her and without a warning.”

“I tried to get away but she wouldn't let go of my arm and I didn't want to be rude.” 

His bottom lip sticks out in a small pout and you kiss it away, “Yoonie, sometimes you’re too nice for your own good.”

“Maybe I should be just nice to you.”

“You're too nice for that,” he rolls his eyes, making you laugh even more, “that's why I love you.”

“I love you more, baby.”

Protect them 🥺  Let me know what you think. comment, reblog, send an ask, follow or whatnot. Thank you for reading <3 ♡ Tag list: @n33mesis , @sexytholland , @mggv97 , @wobblewobble822 , @bbou-doir , @m00njinnie , @itsmina29 , @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d , @nariee02 , @ktownshizzle , @kimtaehussy . 

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[shadowkoo]

Baby Maker

→ Summary: You and Yoongi have been relishing the comfort of your newly married life, savoring each moment together. However, there's an additional want tugging at your heartstrings – the thought of becoming a mother. That’s right, you want a baby. Yoongi isn’t sure if he’s ready for the journey of bringing a baby into your lives. But he’ll agree to anything that makes you happy, and if it’s a baby you want, it’s a baby you’ll get.

↠ yoongi x f.reader | 1k words | 18+ ↠ genre: slice of life, romance, fluff, smut, newlyweds

→ Warnings: unprotected sex (intentional), daddy kink, impregnation kink, deep dicking, belly bulge, oral (female receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie

→ Author note: This is a remix/update of an older fic of mine, so I hope you enjoy the newest version! If you'd like to read this on ao3 instead it's been crossposted here! And as always, all likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated <3

You wrap your arms around your husband the second he walks through the front door of your home.

"Mmm, I've waited all day for this," you whisper before pulling him into a long kiss. One of your hands cradles his cheek while the other plays with his hair.

"Well, hello there Mrs. Min," Yoongi says with a sideways smile sprawled across his face after pulling away, "What's got you in such a good mood?" He takes off his blazer and sets his work bag down on the bench in your entryway as you pull him into another lengthy kiss, one that makes Yoongi's groin stir with excitement.

You smile up at him and start to unbutton his top as you pull him further into your home, your end goal being the bedroom.

"Baby?" he asks with dark eyes, "Are you planning on spoiling me with dessert before dinner tonight?"

You laugh, "Baby, I don't want dessert... I want a baby."

Yoongi's face changes from one of eager anticipation to confusion, then to pure and utter shock.

‘Did all the air in the room suddenly disappear? Why aren’t you having trouble breathing like he is?’

"I want to make a baby with you," you repeat, looking into his fear-filled eyes. You figured he'd be a little freaked out, but not this much.

He coughs and sputters, pulling at the neck of his button-up shirt. "You, uh, b-baby?" Yoongi mutters once he’s able to form words again.

"Yes, a baby," you took a step back from him. "It's been almost three years since we've gotten married and talked about having kids in the future. Don't you want a mini you or me to love, to watch them grow, to teach them stuff?"

Yoongi is conflicted, not because he doesn’t want kids –he does– but it scares the shit out of him. That's a whole life to take care of and be responsible for. He knows how much you want a family though, and how patient you have been with him about trying for kids.

You give him that one look - the one that you know will get you whatever you want.

"Alright,” he says, easily won over. “Let's make a baby," he answers while pulling you back into his arms.

Yoongi brings your center up against his. You feel his growing hardness pressing into you through his jeans, and moan through the kiss. You want him.

And he wants you.

His kisses are hot and needy, but somehow still so very loving.

Yoongi lifts you up and carries you urgently the rest of the way to the bedroom, where he lays you down, ready to fuck you. To love you.

Your hands work on his shirt's buttons, undoing them as fast as you can. His run along your hips, making their way to the front of your jeans where he works to undo them, and slips them and your panties off simultaneously.

Your husband keeps eye contact with you while one of his hands slides slowly up the inside of your legs, right up to the edge of your dewy folds.

“Is this pretty little cunt ready for me?”

You nod frantically, and moan uncontrollably when his tongue dives deep into your core. He savors you, his tongue playing your clit like it's the most intricate instrument.

Grabbing a fistful of his hair, you hold his head in place while he finished you off. You come undone all over his face, his cheeks showing evidence of your release once he pulls away from you.

“I’ll never get tired of your taste,” he breathes. And it’s true, you’re intoxicating. He’s addicted to you.

Yoongi stands up, pulling you towards the edge of the bed, where he then rubs his throbbing cock through your folds, wetting himself just enough to dip into you.

He nearly loses himself, but manages to power through and find a rhythm that has you both heading in the right direction.

His low moans sound like heaven to your ears.

You pull him closer to you until your lips crash together, moaning into each other's mouth while you climb higher and higher.

Needing to sink even further into your heat, he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, pounding you from a new angle and bringing you closer and closer to the release that you crave.

“Who’s fucking you like there’s no tomorrow? Who’s putting this baby in your belly? I want you to scream my name,” he demands.

“You did,” you pant. “Min Yoongi did.”

“Fuck!” Yoongi grits his teeth as he watches the way your lower belly bulges, matching his hard thrusts.

"I’m so close,” you cry out, your nails digging into your husband’s biceps. “Cum in me," you whine, pleading for him to release into you. Yoongi is more than happy to oblige.

"I love you,” you breathe as the waves of pleasure wash over you, the tingling spreading through your veins.

“I love you more.” Yoongi grunts, his final thrusts becoming more sporadic as he passes the peak, and fills you with his seed. His face twists in pleasure as your pulsating walls milk the last from him.

You’re satisfied feeling his warm release shooting up inside of you. A big grin won’t leave your face, “Thank you.”

He considers making a dick joke, but he doesn’t want to ruin the moment. “You’re welcome, baby,” he says, kissing your cheek.

You roll over onto your back and lift your now tired and heavy legs in the air, and Yoongi gives you a perplexed look. "What?” you ask, "I've heard that this makes the sperm find the egg faster."

He thinks you look ridiculous in the best sort of way, and joins you. "I gain nothing from this but I figured I'd do it to support you."

"You're such a dork." But you love him for it.

"You know what you have to call me later if this worked?" Yoongi asks before answering his own question before you even have the chance. "The baby maker."

Your giggles filled the room and Yoongi can’t help but laugh along with you.

"Alright," you sighed once you calmed down, "I just figured you preferred daddy..."

That same look from earlier flared up in Yoongi's eyes once again, "I'm open to negotiations."

©shadowkoo 2023. All rights reserved.

[hisunshiine]

—immortal lust |myg|

🧛🏻 pairing: vampire!yoongi x vampire hunter!reader  🧛🏻 au/genre: vampire au, e2l, angst, smut  🧛🏻 rating: M  🧛🏻 wc: 8,783 🧛🏻 warnings: mentions of parent death (off-screen). creepy themes associated with graveyards, vampires, and vampire hunting. explicit smut: fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, implied bdsm, implied orgy, biting, blood drinking (vamps, duh!), use of blood for lubrication (again, vamps!) 🧛🏻 an: thank you to my beta readers @downbad4yoongi and @lo1k-diamonds and @mrsparkjimin18. I know this ws rough at first, but I think it became a very enjoyable piece of literature in the end. @colormepurplex2, thank you for the prompt to write, and congrats on earning the most points for the network in the semi-annual tally! You earned it! 🧛🏻 summary: In the shadows of a world where the supernatural breathes just beneath the surface of the mundane, you are a skilled vampire slayer from a revered family harboring a secret desire that contradicts your very existence. 

🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻🧛🏻

This story is written for @colormepurplex2 as her gift for being the top leading point earner for our network, @bangtanwritershq and for our Quarter 2 event: Seven Deadly Sins

ᥫ᭡ AU Type: Lust — Vampire AU ᥫ᭡ Themes: Enemies 2 Lovers & Forbidden Desires ᥫ᭡ Inclusions: Bargains & Contracts, Confessions and Secrets, Explicit Sexual Content, Blood & Violence 

masterlist ❁ ao3

24 Years Ago

“Why are you crying, Uncle Sol?” Eight-year-old you stands in the darkened doorway of the study, bleary eyes struggling to take in the scene in front of you.

Soleil Belmont sits in the overly stuffed, brown leather armchair in front of the fireplace. Your uncle by choice, thanks to the life-long friendship between him and your mother, Valkyrie Blake, is how he came to be in your life. The hands that cover his damp eyes wipe furiously at his cheeks, as if to hide the evidence of his tears from your sight. You didn’t even notice how he looked—the mud caked on his boots, the tattered look of his shirt under his leather jacket, the small cut by his hairline or the bruises starting to appear along his face. 

“Come here, sweetie,” he asks, voice breaking as you walk in your thin nightgown across the wood floors, feet making quiet sounds with every step you take closer to him. Once within his reach, he places a clammy hand on your shoulder.  

“There’s been an accident.”

The funeral itself was one of the worst days of your life, watching the twin caskets of your parents lower into the rectangular cutouts in the  earth. The gleaming black lacquered wood was polished to perfection, only to be marred by the small handful of dirt you’d thrown before begging to be taken away from the graveyard, away from the scent of death and decay. 

That day is when you decide you never want to experience death. You never want to be so badly injured in a car accident that your family has to have a closed casket. That you’d never see your child grow up, and leave her abandoned in this world. You hate that death is the inevitable end to life, and that fear leads you down the path you’re on now.

You - Present Day

The dream begins much like all of the other ones you’ve had as of late. You’re in an old cemetery—gothic gravestones coated in thick moss with flora obscuring the names and dates of the not-so-recently deceased. Large tombs with crumbling marble and ivy-covered wrought-iron fences, the overgrown oaks with Spanish moss reaching eerily towards your figure in the shadows from the waxing crescent moon. The dirt beneath your feet feels malleable as you step quietly past the final resting places of all of the former slayers. You’ve traversed these grounds before, more than several times in your adult life, as you’ve learned about your family, the work that they did—that you are supposed to continue—and can name all of the family lines that take their final rest here. 

An eerie fog begins to rise from the ground, permeating the air until it covers your boots and ankles, weaving its way along the marble and stone placards, hiding the Lord’s Prayer epitaphs and angelic motifs from sight. A shiver raises the hair along your arms and the back of your neck and you sense him. He’s here, watching you with his luminous eyes and heightened, immortal beauty. You know he can hear the way your heart thrums in your chest, can smell the prickles of adrenaline that drip from the sweat at your hairline, and possibly the arousal as it seeps through your panties.

You attempt to refocus your thoughts away from the nervous energy, standing still.  You wonder if he believes that you are doing this so as to not trip or step on dead wood littering the ground to make too much sound. You know it wouldn’t matter. Quiet as a mouse or trampling like an elephant would make no difference to this being. He is well over three centuries old, exact years he has been alive though are not documented anywhere. No one has lived after a close encounter with him to document his life pre-turning, according to the various journals and tomes housed in the slayer library. 

All you know for certain is that the earliest records of the vampire known only as ‘Yoongi’ appear in the late 17th century, identify his maker as ‘Namjoon’, and his three known fledglings as ‘Heizi’, ‘Taehyung’, and ‘Hoseok’. Only one of his creations is dead—the one who killed your parents. A loud crack of lightning whips your head to the left, the flash revealing the amber backlit eyes embedded in the dark silhouette of the famed vampire crouched on the edge of the cremation tomb several yards away. Your amygdala reacts, heart rate spiking as he moves faster than you can capture—one second he’s atop the Van Helsing columbarium, the next he’s standing in front of you, strong hands clamped to your arms holding you tight, keeping you from moving. Your small but deadly sharp stake is rendered useless by your side.

There’s no time to scream, no time to do anything but hear the rush of blood through your veins as his mouth grows from a smirk to a downright smile, fangs glowing from the reflection of moonlight.

“You made it too easy, kitten,” he purrs, bringing his face closer to yours before dipping his face into your neck. He takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent as he scrapes the tips of his pointed teeth across the sensitive skin of your neck. “And to think you were able to kill Heize. I must do better at training my progeny. Oh well, another slayer to add to the crypt. You didn’t even last two minutes.”

Squirming in his grip, you try to disengage his clenched fists from your arms as his mouth descends to your thrumming artery. You wake with a gasp, hands flying to your neck to check for puncture wounds. 

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Down in the gym at the bottom floor of your house—if you can call it that—you push your muscles to their extent, fists flying into the punching bag. You whip around, grabbing the thin bladed stake from the side pocket of your athletic leggings and plunge it into the second bag made for staking. 

With a deep breath, you step onto the bag to pull your weapon loose, watching small bits of fluff flutter to the mat beneath you. Wiping the sweat from your brow, you check the time on the clock, noting it’s near lunchtime. Sheathing your weapon, you head up the staircase to sunlight. 

On the ground floor, your eyes easily slide past the neoclassical designs along the hallway, high ceilings with blank walls, and columns lining the open floor plan with large arched floor-to-ceiling windows. The protein shake you prepared earlier sits on the top shelf in the fridge, and you grab it along with the jelly to make yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. You’ve just finished when Soleil Belmont walks into the kitchen, a gentle squeeze to your shoulder as he bypasses you to the fridge.

“Can we talk?” he asks you, but you don’t want to argue with him, not when tonight could be the last time you ever talk to him. 

“Sol, I have to do this. You can’t change my mind about this. He sired the vampire that killed my mom and dad. He’s killed countless people for sport, leaving behind orphaned children like me.” You hope the finality in your tone will keep him from prying or asking more questions. 

It works.

“I love you. And I won’t try to change your mind. You’re much like your mother, stubborn to the very end.” Your mother’s best friend and your legal guardian until you turned 18 joins you at the table with a bowl of grapes, a look of acceptance in his eyes. “You know, if anything happens to you, I’m selling this house. It’s much too big for me and I’m getting older.”

Your eyes gaze across his features: the greying hair at the edges of his hairline, crow’s feet meeting the creases of his eyes, the weariness in the undereye circles and fine lines. He’s nearing 60, an age you don’t think you’ll live to see. An age your parents never got to be. At 32, you live on your family estate alone, with Soleil in the pool house you had renovated years ago as a Mother-in-Law suite once you turned 21 and gained your inheritance—and learned the truth about your parents’ death. 

Just as much as you probably could have lived without ever knowing the truth of your parents’ lives, and their demise, you didn’t need all the space he was trying to give you, but he wanted to allow you the chance to be an adult, have a social life and you assume a sex life without having to hear it. You appreciated it in the moments you brought men back from the bar or campus library, but other times, it was just…lonely. 

As a Belmont, Soleil knew about vampires. His family is well known across Europe for their work in Romania slaying creatures of the night, and Soleil’s great-grandparents moved here in the early 1800’s to spread their knowledge to others to continue hunting as the new world grew and vampires spread to the new continent. This is how your families came to be friends and fight alongside each other. Until Heize killed three of the four hunters tasked with taking her out, leaving you and Sol as the only survivors of the Belmont’s and the Blake’s. 

“I think you should. I only keep it because it has everything I need to train. I could practice in peace without worrying about people judging me for all of my weapons. Most people think it’s a little weird to have wooden stakes and crossbows when working out.”

Sol chuckles, making a joke about how between the gym being littered with staked bags and the UV lights that line the entire property at night, people would be confused when purchasing, but then the light leeches out of his eyes as he looks you over.

“Remember to keep your wits about you, okay? I never wanted kids because I knew that hunters' lives never end happily, and when I lost…we lost your parents and my fiancee, I wouldn’t have had a reason to keep living if it weren’t for you.”

You decide now is best to give him the ticket and the envelope.

“Sol, I think…I think it’s best for you to go away on a trip. I think I’ll be able to focus better knowing you are out of harm’s way if you leave.” You slide the ticket across the table towards him, the envelope underneath it. “It’s a one-way ticket to Paris and enough money to be comfortable for as long as you want.”

“You don’t think you’ll survive this, do you?” Sol asks, eyes searching yours for clues, but you remain steadfast.

“Don’t worry about me, Sol,” you say and he makes to interrupt you, but you don’t let him, dealing the killing blow. “I’m not your daughter, so you don’t have to stick around anymore. Go live your life. I want you to go and live your life.”

The hurt in Sol’s eyes is visible, but your plan works. His hand reaches out to grasp the ticket, leaving the envelope of money where it’s at. 

“I don’t need Blake money; the Belmont’s have enough of their own.” He takes a moment to pause, eyes locking back all emotions as he stands. “I’ll pack and leave town. Don’t be distracted.”

Soleil walks to the hallway, turning back just once. “Goodbye.”

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The past 11 years seem to be coming to a head. You’ve spent all of your time after graduating from college training for today. Ever since you learned the truth of how your parents and Sol’s fiancee died, you’ve been plotting for this moment. 

As a member of the famed Blake family, vampire hunting is in your blood. As a child, you obsessed over vampires because of the ability to avoid dying, and as an adult, that obsession helped you with your training. You knew more about vampires than one would expect having been brought into the fold so late, but you put your head down and studied more, learning all you could from previous journals and occult texts to gain insight into the vampires with ties to the one called Min Yoongi. 

Several years ago you went out to avenge your parents, trapping Heize in a classic bait-and-switch. You didn’t think it would be so easy since she was estimated to be around 200 years, but she fell for it simply because Soleil was the only one she didn’t kill, and in her blood haze, she underestimated you. A simple ‘accidental’ dropping of a message from Sol that said where to meet, coupled with thoughts that you and Sol made sure to keep in your head to continue the ruse allowed Heize to willingly walk into the decrepit mausoleum that was booby-trapped with the thinnest of steel wiring criss-crossing the doorway several yards inside with you and Sol on the other side. 

In her haste to grab Soleil, she blurred—her speed too fast to stop her from splicing herself into pieces and effectively decapitating herself was a pleasure to watch. Grabbing the blow torches stashed in the room, her body quickly lit up with flames licking the marble walls as you made your exit. 

It’s been over 5 years since then, and every second since has been spent planning for tonight. 

Min Yoongi - Present Day

Laying in the coffin in his home, Yoongi awaits dusk. His body is antsy for the moment the sun is below the horizon; even in his slumber, he knows that you are out there waiting. For him. He’s followed your movements since the death of his fledgling, Heize, watching to see how this novice of a hunter could have overpowered one of his chosen flock. Imagine his surprise when it turns out that it was you—the last remaining survivor of the Blake family who knew nothing of vampires true existence until you were an adult. 

But over time, he realized as novice as you were, you were skilled. Your lithe movements and ability to track his kind was a novel experience for him to observe. You took down creatures of the night in preparation for what you expressed to your guardian as training for taking out him. Yoongi laughs to himself. 

He admits you’re smart, the plan you laid out is a good one, but you forgot to block your mind from thoughts of the plan several times, which allowed Yoongi to plan his counterattack. In the light of the midday sun, even from outside of his home, he sensed you as you approached and left a note. He could hear your heartbeat, hear the rustle of the paper as you placed it through the mail slot of the front door.

His eyes shot open the moment the sun fell below the horizon. Yoongi hated that he was not yet able to avoid the forced slumber that overtook his kind when the sun rose, nor that he was not averse yet to the fatigue that set in beforehand, warning him of the lack of time remaining to the night. Elder vampires, of which he’s only met two who had lived over a thousand years, were almost immortal. The ability to walk in the sun and thus are not affected by the need to sleep when it rises. Yoongi envies them, but he plans to join them one day. 

He flits to the main hallway, hand reaching for the note and taking in your handwriting in seconds. 

I know what you are. I want to be one of you. Please meet me tonight and turn me, or I will tell everyone vampires exist. 

An address is scrawled at the bottom of the note, but he doesn’t need it. He can follow the heady scent of you to wherever you are. Even in sleep, he sensed when you drew near and his subconscious couldn’t help reading the thoughts that lay in your mind. You truly thought this ruse would work? Hell, it would’ve worked on Heize, or his other fledglings, had they not known who you were. There is fear to be had with mortals knowing of their existence; vulnerability lay in the moments that the sun is out, and a house fire could destroy a whole flock in minutes if their kind is not careful. Yoongi cursed their inability to wake while the sun was out, and now that he knows you know where he resides, he must find a new place to live out his days. 

A glance at the old grandfather clock in the hallway shows him that the sun is now well and truly gone, allowing him to slip through the entrance of the home and out onto the sidewalk. He takes a deep breath, searching for your scent through the others that encompass the air around him; the grass along the road, the burnt rubber of tires in traffic, the lingering warmth of the sun before its descent, and then the faint smell of jasmine flowers after a fresh rainfall. You. 

Blurring into motion, Yoongi travels several miles towards the city, slowing once other scents begin to emerge. Thin crust pizzas covered in meat and cheese, overflowing trash and body odor, and a desperation that covers the city’s nightlife with a humming buzz. The fading jasmine keeps him moving, though now at a human pace as he approaches what appears to be a dance studio. The sign above the door confirms as much, and he’s not surprised that the glass door is unlocked despite the red and white closed sign hanging at eye-level for passersby. 

The floral scent grows tenfold, as if Yoongi has stepped into what he assumes your bedroom would smell like. There is a strange undercurrent that he isn’t used to associating with you, but he assumes it’s just lingering from the studio. As he walks past the lobby area, the shadows of the fake potted plants and the empty chairs intrigue him. Why you chose this place is beyond his comprehension, as a dance studio such as this one, owned by the Blake family—your family—for years, is in the middle of the city and one of the few places not related to the hidden career path of hunting. Unless you count using dance as a way to build agility for fighting those who cannot die, well at least not die easily. 

Yoongi’s cockiness as he meanders closer to the hallway towards the various dance rooms leaves him caught off guard when the sound of whirring behind him causes him to move unnaturally before going eerily still. The slightest misstep is only noticed by Yoongi, whose barely beating heart seems to pick up minutely—not that anyone living or dead would be able to tell. He chuckles at your meager attempt to lock him in; a motorized grate lowering across the lobby door and windows. 

His strength could easily rip the grate off of its frame, but this little game you’re playing is just too good to walk away from without seeing what you’ve planned with his own eyes. It only pops into his thoughts once he’s walked through the back studio where your scent is the strongest, that the grate lowering was not part of the plans his Mind Gift overheard from you. 

So it’s only to his own surprise when the undercurrent rises to an overwhelming level and he realizes what his hubris blocked out. The mirrored room before him is splashed floor to ceiling with blood. 

You - Present Day

With the scent of your blood so overwhelming to the centuries-old vampire, you watch from the corner of the room as he drifts towards the mirrors and closer to where you need him to be. Your fingertips itch on the small switchboard you hold, ready for your plan to unfold. He looks almost dazed, eyes unfocused as his fangs poke his bottom lip. He looks so different, from the way the journals make him out to be, in person he’s much more attractive, and you have to really focus to make sure you don’t miss your mark. 

When Yoongi enters the area you’ve marked off with tape, you release your hold on the button that allows two things to happen simultaneously: a set of low UV flashbang grenades are set off, the mirrored walls reflecting the blinding light with a cacophony of sounds to drown out any thoughts he might try to detect, and a 4x4 cage made of the thinnest wire springs into place trapping him within its confines. 

You watch him through your military-grade glasses, the lenses preventing the bright lights from disorienting you as his brilliant eyes shut against the danger they sense. He is a few centuries old, and you know that despite the direct hit of the UV light, which only lasts for a split second, the slight damage dealt to his skin heals seconds later. 

But your aim wasn’t to kill him. He laughs, a loud bellyful that sounds almost joyous until you flip the second switch, which sets the alkali metal aflame. His laugh is silenced almost immediately, a growl rumbling lowly in his throat. 

“What game are you playing at, little mortal?” His voice carries an edge, and you shiver with delight. You’re sure that it’s never been this easy to capture a vampire that is several centuries old, but sometimes the best laid plans are the most simple. You step forward from the corner you were in, no longer hidden as the flames light the room and you pull off the tinted lenses.

“I’m not playing any games at all.”

He glares at you, the slits of his eyes glowing an intense amber shade—an enhancement to what you predict were originally beautiful brown eyes—and you bravely take a step closer. 

“Then what, praytell, would you call this,” his hand waves gingerly towards the room around him, “smoke and mirrors set up you have me in?”

“I…I want to experience being bitten.”

This time, the vampire does laugh fully, his head thrown back exposing his fangs and the long lines of his neck from his sharp jaw. His milky white collar bones are barely exposed in his black, button-down, long-sleeved shirt.

“No hunter,” he spits the word as if spitting a foul taste from his mouth, “would willingly subject themselves to a bite, to risk becoming that which they hunt.” 

“I would.” Your answer rings with sincerity, at least to your own ears, and you hope that the vampire can see the longing in your eyes.

“What reason would I have to give in to this request? The promise that you’ll let me out of here before daylight comes to burn me into ash? That you’ll let me out of this fire prison you’ve created? Do I look like a fool, mortal?”

“I think you’re desperate enough to make sure tonight is not your last night on Earth, and you should know that you hold all of the cards.” You take a deep breath before sharing your deepest secret with the immortal being before you, your voice rushing with a frenzied speed. “I only learned of your existence once I was an adult. Before that, I prayed to whatever gods would listen to find a way to avoid the inevitable—to escape death. You know I grew up without parents, right?” 

Yoongi only stared at you, glowing embers following your every move.

“Of course you know. I killed your progeny for their murder once I knew the truth.”

He hissed at you then, fangs extended fully as his eyes deepened with rage. He looked as if he had half a mind to grip the flame-laden cage and come after you, but held back—barely. You wait, quietly assessing him as he reins in his anger, chest no longer rising and falling in unbidden anger.

“That was a death that I deserved, and your anger will not sway how I feel about it. But it also doesn’t change what I am requesting of you. I want you to bite me.”

Min Yoongi - Present Day

Min Yoongi doesn’t believe the predicament he’s currently in. A fool! He curses himself. A damned fool to walk right into the trap you laid out for him.

The flames entrapping his body are low, but still, the heat has him on edge. His search of your mind as you speak shows no pretense, but he remembers how easily you fooled him with your thoughts just earlier today. The scent of your blood sang to him, luring him deeper into the dance studio until his mind couldn’t handle the amount; it overwhelmed him just long enough for you to pounce. 

Now that the flames have had time to thrive, the smell of burning metal drowns out the worst of your scent, and he asks you questions to buy himself time to think. But he can’t understand you fully. Your actions and words do not align with what he knows of hunters, of what he knows of you from afar. To hear you earnestly wish for him to bite you, despite knowing how hard you trained to kill his fledgling, contradicts everything he thinks he knows about the prominent hunting families. 

And still, your request piques his interest. The calmness of your body belies no deceit, no racing heart or skittered words as you barter with him as if discussing what to have for breakfast with a partner. And he’s studied your body, unbeknownst to you. He’s watched as you brought home men to fuck, heard the way your body reacted to their attempts at pleasure, the way your nervous system changed when you lied about seeing them again. Has smelled your jasmine scent and can’t lie that he’s wanted a taste…if only to then rip your pretty throat out.

He realizes in that moment that you do not know fully and truly what it is you are asking for. There are mysteries yet hidden from the mortal world about vampires, about their bite and the effect it has on the living when not immediately drained. 

Yoongi grins, finally deciding to answer your request after long moments of thought. 

“I accept your demands, hunter. I shall bite you in exchange for sparing my life.”  

You - Present Day

Your heart beats loudly in your ears as you walk away from his gaze to shut the door to the dance studio. You take a few deep breaths before turning around to walk back towards the switchboard, where you activate another switch. 

A low hum reminiscent of fluorescent lights quietly fills the quiet of the room, to which Yoongi questions. 

“Another precaution?”

You glance at him over your shoulder with a smirk.

“Just my way of making sure that you stick to your end of the bargain. Should you harm me against my will, I have a way to activate those lights lining the room, which are high-powered UV lights, and not just the ones that last for a second.” You look back at the switchboard, finger searching for the one to shut off the fire and disengage the cage. “The only way out of here safely is with my blessing.”

“Afraid of me, hunter?” His query has you pause your movements.

“Afraid of you? No. You’re my best bet at getting what I want.”

Facing the vampire, you maintain eye contact as you grip the hemline of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in as fluid a motion as you can to leave you in just a simple underwire t-shirt bra and your denim jeans—you assume his bite will still be messy, and walking out of here covered in blood seems like a sure way to attract police attention. Again, you see Yoongi take on that supernatural stillness that only creatures of the night can achieve. His eyes are like focused lasers on your body, and you feel a thrill as you reach behind you to release him. 

With unnatural speed, he blurs into your space, forcing you back towards the wall—a cold hand on your exposed hip and the other leaving a dent as it braces against the wall by your ear. 

“Any of my kind could’ve given you what you wanted. It need not be me,” he murmurs as his nose trails along your jawline seductively. But in the next moment, his fingers tighten into your skin as he growls. “So why strip and offer yourself to me?” 

You squirm in his grip, a sense of deja vu taking over as you remember the dream you had a couple of nights ago. “Because,” you gasp out, “you’re the oldest vampire I know in existence. Newer vampires have no control, killing almost immediately.” You arch in an attempt to create space off of the wall—you hate the way you feel trapped. You question whether you should have trusted your instincts about Yoongi. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere. Why would a hunter want to be bitten?” His hand leaves the wall to grab your chin. A chill sweeps down your body from the points of contact, sending goosebumps along your exposed skin. His eyes flash a luminous amber. “Tell the truth.”

Your mind feels hazy from his command, almost as if you’ve stepped outside of yourself to watch your mouth open. “I’ve always been fascinated by vampires,” your voice sounds dreamy, a wistful look upon your face, “ever since my parents died. I want to escape that fate, I want to master death.”

A low hum from Yoongi helps break the spell as his eyes ever so carefully appear to peel back the layers until he sees through to the real you. The little girl who cried at her parents funeral and vowed never to meet her maker. You sense when he makes his decision, his eyes growing lighter and his hand tilts your head to the side.

“There is much you do not know, and you know not truly what you ask for.” He inhales a breath he doesn’t need, and his voice changes, a different tone taking over. “But your body reacts—it longs for this, does it not?” he teases. “I can smell your lust, your desire.” He presses his body to yours, firm planes and muscle meeting your softer curves. You feel the closeness of his lips as they graze across yours.

A small whimper escapes your mouth. “Please,” you softly beg so your lips caress.

Yoongi’s tongue slips between your teeth in a kiss of seduction. There is no rush to his movements, only a controlled, steady pace as he meets your tongue with his. You feel his teeth prick your lip as his hand moves to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer. There’s no sound, except for the hum of the device and your heavy breathing. Yoongi doesn’t need to breathe. 

You gasp for air when he trails featherlight kisses along your carotid artery, his hand sliding along your side and over your covered chest and onto your shoulder. Once there, he pushes your bra strap down and removes the fabric covering your breast, freeing it from the holster. His thumb circles the peak of your breast, taught from the friction. He must be enjoying the way he’s building the tension in your body, and you wonder if humans taste better to vampires when they’re aroused. 

You don’t get a chance to ask. The insertion of his fangs into your neck is nothing like your dreams. The prickle of pain as they lance open your skin fades almost instantly when you feel the first pull of your blood through your veins and into his mouth. 

You gasp, astonished as the euphoric feeling settles over you like a warm blanket and Yoongi’s arms wrap around you as he drinks from you in deep swallows. He’s taken in a few mouthfuls before he pulls away with a shudder that shakes his whole being. 

“Divine,” he whispers, blood trailing along the sides of his chin as his hands move to fully free you of your bra, then trail along your curves. The contact is exquisite, the coolness of his hands doing wonders for the flames licking underneath your skin. 

“More, touch me more, please,” you sigh, wanting nothing more than the creature who holds you in his arms. The feeling of him seems to burrow under your skin to the very depths of your soul as if he’s leaving a permanent stamp embedded. 

His deft fingers cup your breast, causing you to moan with barely any movement. “Not enough!” you whine, uncaring at your petulance. Yoongi chuckles at you. 

“Where do you want me to touch you, kitten? How do you want me to touch you? Under your jeans? Gentle or rough? Perhaps you want much more than that?”

You blink coquettishly, nodding yes and begging him to take more of your blood from you. Your hands reach for him, fingertips pulling at the edge of his clothes as if to free him of them. You’re rewarded with his alabaster skin, the light dusting of hair below his navel leading into the very pants your fingers fiddle with the button on. 

His tongue laps at your heaving chest, and you watch as he cleans away the blood that ran from the bite he left. His fingers tug at your nipples, and you give up tugging at his pants as the sensation causes your head to fall back in a breathy whine. Your fingers have worked efficiently enough though—his pants fall to the floor and he kicks them aside to join the growing pile of clothes, and you add your jeans next in haste. 

Another mewling sound leaves you when his tongue toys with your pert nipple, fangs scraping along the soft contours of your breast as he chases the last of your blood. When you feel your back hit a mirrored wall behind you, you welcome the cooling feel of the glass, though unsure of when you moved. Yoongi’s leg pries apart your thighs, hand dropping to the heat between as he presses against your still-clothed core in search of your clit. When his fingers push your panties aside and he begins to rub slippery circles against you, he chuckles lowly. 

“How wet you are, indeed, pet. Yes, I think you want much more than just my bite.”

In your own mind, you agree with his words. You want so much more than just his bite because you want all of him—his bite, his touch, his cock filling you over and over as you crest in shuddering waves of insurmountable pleasure—for all of eternity. His lips drag along your neck as he speaks, leaving small kisses between his sentences. His fingers dance along your slick opening, teasing but never broaching. Not in the ways you want him to fill you. 

He hikes up one of your legs so that it rests on his forearm, opening you up to him and at the same time that he plunges his fingers into you, he returns his mouth to your skin, placing a bite in the swell of your breast and drinking deeply. Your body thrums, blood pulsing slower to be in sync with Yoongi’s at every swallow of your life force. 

You’ve never felt this way—no one has ever finger fucked you like this, and through the roaring of your blood in your veins, you distantly hear your own voice begging him for more. The heel of his hand makes contact with your clit, and you keen when he holds the position, fingers deep inside you to rub against the spongy patch of nerves as his wrist makes circular movements to stimulate your clit. Your hands work at the buttons along his shirt, pulling with haste and faintly recognizing the ping of the buttons as they ricochet free. Shoving the cloth off his shoulders, you’re exposed to delicate collarbones, a lean torso with blush nipples and a toned chest that tapers into a narrow waist. A small smattering of unruly black hair leads a path down the center into the briefs low on his hips.

You see starbursts behind your eyes as you cum, hard, walls fluttering rapidly around his long fingers. The air in the room is thick with need, desire running so deeply in your veins that you feel lightheaded. All you want is more, more, more. It’s not enough that he bit you, not enough that he brought you to ecstasy with just his fingers. You crave everything he has to give you. As if not of your own volition, you rock against the fingers still inside you, hands reaching to pull Yoongi’s face back towards yours. 

Fingers twine with the hair at the nape of his neck, and with reckless abandon, you kiss him hard. The metallic taste of your blood mixes with a taste all his own and you relish the way the two mix into a delightful cocktail on your tongue. His fingers thrust shallowly into you as he slowly makes to remove them from your body. Your hips cant towards him, chasing the feeling until he drops your leg from his arm and you’re left empty and wanting. 

The hollowness he’s left you with makes you want to cry, but when you try to pull away from the kiss and complain, he chuckles against your lips. “Hush, kitten, we’re just getting started.”

It seems like an eternity that he’s abandoned your pleasure, but with his supernatural strength, it takes mere seconds for his hands to rip your panties from your body, rid himself of his remaining clothes, bend his knees for access to hook his elbows around the backs of your knees, and lift you up. Your back slams into the glass mirror, and you feel the way it shatters around your body, but you feel no pain. Not when the new position has your core exposed to him and his velvet, steel cock is positioned at your entrance, teasing you with what’s to come. 

The view of him between your thighs is amazing. Your eyes trail down his body, showing no shame as you rest them upon his cock, a blushing hue color fueled from your blood now pumping in his body. It’s erect, his lust for you is apparent as he flexes his hips. The tip sinks inside you with help from your first orgasm lubricating his entry, but he doesn’t let it get far before pulling back. He edges you with languid pumps, and you watch in anguish each time he retreats from your warmth. His cock glistens farther up each time he dips inside of you, and the unhinged, sex-craved and cock thirsty being inside you wants him covered in you, the smell of sex so overwhelming that people on the street can smell it. 

“Oh, yes, kitten, everyone will know all of the depraved and debaucherous things I’m going to do to you.” He thrusts in with one fluid movement, and you swear you feel him in your chest. The fullness his girth offers splits you open like you’ve never experienced before, while his length reaches deep inside you. 

A glance at Yoongi's face as he takes in your naked body proves that he too feels the snug way he fits inside of you, and is also expecting to see the bulge from the tip of his glorious cock pressing against your skin. A flash of disappointment when it doesn’t happen flits across his face, and you realize he was not joking about the depraved things he wants to do to you. 

A press of his palm to your lower abdomen has your mouth open in silent pleasure as his hips swirl delectably; the pressure provides the perfect grind of his flexing muscle against every part of you that squeezes him, and the sound as he slips through you just to thrust in again only makes your lust rage more. It’s sinful, everything about the way he’s fucking you roughly is. 

Gasping out sensual curses mixed with your name, Yoongi’s eyes flash an intense color, and as if reading your deepest thoughts, he pulls out of you and shifts away from the pane of shattered glass to one still intact. He flips you so that your breasts press to the mirrors. His fingers dig into your hips as he pulls them backward, his feet nudging your own apart. You brace yourself with your hands on the glass, breath leaving a hazy fog with each shuddering exhale of air as you find reprieve from the fire beneath your skin with a pressed cheek to the reflective wall. 

“Fuck…me…” you moan out the curse when he seats himself fully inside of you, his pelvis pressed tightly against your ass cheeks as he lets out a low, throaty growl. 

“I thought I was,” he replies smartly, but the shake to his voice shows how much restraint he’s showing. You press your ass into him as much as you can, rising onto your toes for leverage. Your eyes stare at his reflection behind you, watching as he curls his body around yours to lick at your earlobe. “I had plans of killing you, dreamt of the way I would torture you before I snapped this pretty little neck of yours, did you know?”

You didn’t know for certain, but you feel like all creatures of the night have the goal of killing humans one way or another, so it doesn’t really bother you. In fact, his words make you clench around him, because the way he’s worded it seems like these are no longer his plans. He confirms as much as his hips rock back and forth in a teasing rhythm that barely sates your needs for him. 

“I’ve decided that this pussy is just too good to go to waste, kitten.” His head drops into the crux of your neck, breathing deeply. “Your sweet blood calls to me, and will taste even more decadent when you cum around my cock,” his tongue swipes over your skin before his fangs burrow into you with such an all-consuming lust, you nearly sob with how good it feels. His hips begin a punishing pace as he wraps his arms around you, one hand going to hold your right breast as the other hand drops between your thighs. 

The pads of his first two fingertips slip around his thrusting cock, stimulating your weeping core before moving back up to strum along your clit, matching pace with each press inside of you. “You will make such a lovely creature, don’t you think? Cum for me, kitten, and I will make sure of it.” His words trigger a deep need inside you, words that soothe an ache you’ve carried since you were a child. 

Your orgasm bursts from you in an earth-shattering explosion, so heady and rippling that you fear you will black out from the strength of it. You barely feel when his teeth sink into you again. He takes a deep pull from your artery, and your high gives him exactly what you think he was searching for. It’s almost shameful the way he moans against your skin as he drinks you in, but you’re so lost to his thrall that it only makes your desire for him deeper. 

His thrusts stutter until he is no longer able to hold back, and he fills you as he rips his fangs from you. His head is thrown back as he growls through his ecstasy, and you blink slowly at his reflection, eyes tracing the veins in his neck now running red with your blood trailing from his mouth. 

With more restraint than you thought he had left, he turns to you and you feel a fog take over as he asks you a series of questions about getting out of this room safely. You answer them each methodically, as if you have no control over your words. 

You feel yourself growing more and more tired, watching every few seconds when your eyes decide to open again from each blink, bleary-eyed as Yoongi dismantles the failsafes you put in place should things go wrong. Your chest aches for him, wanting him closer to you, touching you, drinking from you. 

“Soon, 달달한 피.” He kneels before you, dressed once again, hiding his body from you. You hate it. “It’s time for us to go somewhere safe.”

He pulls you into his arms and you preen, if you could purr, your chest would be rumbling in the pleasure of the feel of him. Your head rests on his shoulder and you try to stay awake; some part of you wants to pay attention to where you’re going, but blood loss wins as you sink into a deep slumber. 

Yoongi - Several Days Later

Pain. 

Your body thrashes with pain as the blood you just consumed spreads throughout your system. The last few days after leaving the ballet studio and entering Yoongi’s…home, for lack of a better word, has been full of the most exquisite satisfaction your body has ever experienced. You told him as much each night since arriving.

He’s reveled in giving into his most debased fantasies, and your body is covered in the proof; bruises littering your skin, chafing around your wrists and ankles, blood staining the rug beneath his feet where he now stands, watching you. 

Yoongi hasn’t turned a mortal in almost 200 years—not since he turned the one you killed. You make a better replacement for her in many ways, he thinks. Your beauty, your mind, your 달달한 피, or sweet blood, which he can’t wait to taste once you’re resurrected. And because this is the longest he has gone since bestowing the Dark Gift upon a being, not to mention that he is closer to 400 years than he likes to admit, he is sure you will be powerful beyond belief. 

He heals his wrist and glances at the time; he chose to turn you at sunset so he had time to prepare before he needs to rest. The marble walls that surround the underground basement bedroom of Yoongi’s home echo with your sounds of pain, so Yoongi leaves you in the bed as he ventures towards another wing. He knows that when the sun sets again, you shall be ravenous, and he needs the help of his brothers to bring in enough sustenance for when you wake. 

His maker, Namjoon, lounges in his study with a beautiful woman straddling his hips. Her skin tone is darker than his, and their coloring makes a beautiful picture of caramel and chocolate swirls. She is draped over him, arms wrapped around Namjoon’s neck as she bucks her hips slowly against him, no doubt riding his cock now for several hours. Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to enter and approach him; he’s used to such displays.

Namjoon licks his lips as he pulls his mouth from her neck, and then smiles up at Yoongi from his couch. 

“Well done, enthralling the last of that hunter family. One less family we need to worry about.”

Yoongi focuses on Namjoon’s face, trying to ignore the whimpering moans from the woman getting off in front of him. It’s making his own cock stir, and he’s tempted to join in, but then he wouldn’t have time to gather the blood you need. He indulges for a few moments longer though, watching the way her supple breasts press against Namjoon’s firm chest as she kisses along his neck. 

“You can join, brother. Would you like her mouth or her ass?”

Yoongi shakes his head but continues to enjoy watching the beautiful woman as she rides his maker. He’s tented in his jeans, but that’s also a normal occurrence for all of the men living here, since you can always find someone having sex at any moment. 

“I wanted to let you know that I will be inviting a few mortals over. I plan to head out with the others and gather a few.”

Glee arises on Namjoon’s face. “You’ve given her your blood, brother? Oh, this is brilliant. Another one to add to our flock! We haven’t had anyone else in years.” He sighs out in content and then murmurs something into the woman’s ear which has her shuddering. He sinks his fangs into her to enjoy her orgasm before turning back to Yoongi. 

“I can’t wait to meet your newest fledgling, Yoongi. I must know though…will you be possessive or is she one we all can share?”

Yoongi smiles, his fangs poking into his bottom lip as he grins at his maker over the shoulder of the woman who is now leaning away, head thrown back as she bounces on Namjoon’s cock with a fierceness of someone chasing a fourth or fifth orgasm.

“I think she may be open to sharing, brother, she should awake tomorrow at sunset.”

Yoongi turns away with a chuckle as he heads to find any of the other five of their flock to accompany him to the bar.  

You - The Next Sunset      

It’s disorienting how clear everything looks to you. You gasp as a hunger you’ve never felt before takes you into its grip and takes over your mind. Lurching out of the bed you’ve been fucked in every which way since arriving, you clutch at your neck. The hunger burns. 

“Come here, kitten, I’ve got what you need right here.”

You turn to the voice, and a bright splash of scarlet comes into view. You don’t even think about it, you just bring it to your mouth and drink messily. You latch on and slurp down as much as you can, wanting every last drop to sate the intensity, but the voice tugs you away. You feel anger but then you’re given another warm mouthful of scarlet and indulge gluttonously. 

This time, when the voice calls to you, there is no anger, only a need to follow, to go to the voice and await more from it. From him. Yoongi. Your memories flood you all at once, a pulsing thrum as your pussy throbs now that the blood from the drowsy humans is in your veins, and you search for him. 

When you find him, you stumble up from your knees away from the bodies and throw yourself into his arms. You realize you’re still naked when he maneuvers your body so that your thighs are on either side of his, bulge from his jeans rubbing your core from the friction. Leaning into you he kisses you languidly, tongue cleaning up some of the mess you left behind before swirling with your tongue to share the taste of the humans in a kiss. 

Your hips grind against him, the kiss turning sexual in moments and Yoongi growls in response to your libido, now heightened after death. 

“Fuck,” he groans as you unzip his jeans and reverently pull his cock from his boxers, and using a combination of the blood dripping on your chest and your spit, begin to stroke him with firm movements.  

Moments later you return to your first position, straddling Yoongi as you sink onto him repeatedly, one hand gripping your ass and the other in your hair, keeping your mouth on his. 

‘Just like that, beautiful, he likes when his cock is buried deep inside a pretty girl.’

You gasp as you hear a melodic voice in your head, turning your head behind you to see six men watching you take Yoongi’s cock as his lips trail down your neck and chest.

You cock an eyebrow at the men, all so beautiful, you could cry at their jaw lines and angles, broad shoulders and dilated eyes. 

“Yoongi, I didn’t realize you liked an audience,” you tease as you slow your movements and put on a show, pushing Yoongi’s shoulders down to the mattress so that when your chests meet, the view of how well you take him, how well he splits you open as you sink down and envelop him to the hilt, is visible to all of them. 

“I like an audience, kitten, and sometimes I like when the audience joins in.” The look he’s giving you as you continue to ride him lets you know the question he’s asking you. 

“With this new immortal lust of mine, I think I’d like that too.”

Sealing your decision with a bite to Yoongi’s neck, you take a deep pull as you feel the bed dip with the weight of the others joining you for what you hope will be the height of immortal lust that will last an eternity.  

The END

달달한 피 (daldalhan pi)- “sweet blood”

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2024. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

[outrogi]

laura’s yoongi recs

I’ve been reading fics in here nonstop way before I started this blog. It felt like a sin not compiling a list of some of the stories that I loved and hadn’t gotten around to sharing yet, a few of them safe in my drafts until I was ready to make this.

I will keep on adding onto this list as I keep finding stories I've read before and would love to share with you. Leave some love and appreciation to the authors if you can!

disclaimer: all stories that include mature themes will be labeled accordingly. DNI if you aren’t 18+.

♡ - favorite

S E R I E S

please be naked by @floralseokjin ♡ ◦ fuckbuddies au, rebound au, angst, smut, fluff

trip no further by @matchy6812​ ♡ ◦ soulmate au, idol au, humor, angst, fluff, smut

countermelody by @bonvoyagenoona​ ◦ producer and artist au, e2f2l, humor, angst, fluff, smut

grey area by @blushoseoks ♡​ ◦ soulmates au, angst, eventual smut

matilda by @babystrcandy​  ◦ brother’s best friend au, f2e2f2l, angst, smut, fluff

mixtape by @sailoryooons​  ◦ brother’s best friend au, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

carousel by @yoonia​​ ◦ arranged marriage au, ceo!yoongi, angst, fluff, smut

the deal by @untaemedqueen​​​ ◦ drug lord au, strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

the songbird series by maia ♡​​​ ◦ mxm, yoonmin au, pirate au, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

ukiyo by sharleena ♡​​​ ◦ mxm, yoonmin au, drug lord au, succubus, angst, fluff, smut

greedy by @xjoonchildx ♡ ◦ mafia au, angst, fluff, smut

so it goes by @prodagustd​​ ◦ fwb, angst, fluff, smut

•

O N E - S H O T S

lining’s silver by @sketchguk​ ◦ fashion designer!yoongi, artist!reader, fluff, smut ​​

mixtape by @jungblue​ ♡ ◦ podcast personality au, college au, humor, fluff, smut

want a taste? by @suga-kookiemonster​​ ◦ friends to lovers, shopping mall au, humor, smut ​​

cream & suga by @snackhobi​ ◦ holidays au, coffeeshop au, fluff, smut 

first, last and always by @floralseokjin​​​ ◦ exes to lovers, angst, fluff, brief smut ​​

punch drunk by @joonbird​​​ ◦ boxer au, angst, smut

dark side of your room by @sketchguk​​​ ◦ ghost yoongi, familiar au, smut, angst

sweetener by @taegularities​​​​ ◦ former fuckboy au, fwb, enemies to lovers, smut, fluff

sticks & stones by @xpeachesncream​​​​​ ◦ massage au, ex-fwb au, mutual pining, light angst, fluff, smut

•

last updated: 10/06/23

note #1: if any fic recommended is in hiatus, the author has yet to update or left altogether, please do not pester them with updates.

note #2: These are not all of my MYG recs! There’s more with extensive commentary from me here and you can find more of my favorites here

[cravetive]

𝔸 𝔽ℝ𝕀𝔼ℕ𝔻 𝕆𝔽 𝔸 𝔽ℝ𝕀𝔼ℕ𝔻 | ℂℍ. 𝟞

| 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫.

|𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞/𝐚𝐮: 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬,𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭,𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐮, 𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭.

| 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐗 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

| 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.7K

| 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬 & 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, foul language ( 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 ), 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬), 𝐬𝐞𝐱 ( 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬).

| 𝐀/𝐍: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲.

𝐂𝐡.𝟏| 𝐂𝐡.𝟐 | 𝐂𝐡.𝟑 | 𝐂𝐡.𝟒 | 𝐂𝐡.𝟓

-

Silence swept into the space in which you and Yoongi shared; the words he had spoken allowed doubt to settle within your determination. He had read you like an open book, and it made you feel vulnerable. You had to admit he was skilled, being able to read through your façade from just one look. Of course, it was humiliating, and it had left you feeling uneasy to say the least, but you had come to him with a purpose, and you wouldn’t waiver just because he had said what you knew to be true.

that you hated being a Jeon. 

You took a deep breath and glanced around the room ensuring no one could listen into your conversation.

“I see” you began, pressing your lips together nervously. “You're correct, I didn't come to meet you, I already knew who you were before I came to you and yes, indeed it makes me sick to my stomach to admit that I'm married into this family” you confessed which caused Yoongi to raise his eyebrows in surprise. 

He hadn’t expected you to be so forward, to be so vocal regarding your distaste for the Jeon family all while standing in a room full of their loyal comrades. Either you were incredibly dense or really ballsy. Regardless, it intrigued him beyond comprehension. There was something different about you, a drive he couldn’t understand, a hunger in your eyes that he couldn’t avoid.

“Well, what did you come here for exactly?” he asked, tilting his head to the side and narrowing his eyes on you. 

You were hesitant to reply, in your mind a war between your desires and your logic was brewing. You didn’t know anything about the man who stood before you besides his name and his reasons to hate your husband’s family, could you trust him? or would he turn around and stab you on the back? Perhaps, your avidity to find an ally was clouding your better judgement.

Yet, you were in dire need of help. As much as you trusted yourself and your plan, you were more then certain it was not a task that only you could take on.

“I came to you because I need your help” you advised, holding your head high as the words came from your lips. “You and I both hate the Jeon family for our unfortunate reasons” you spoke, your voice faltering. You recalled the details Ha-yoon had shared only moments before and your heart tightened at the thought of what he had lost.

“I come to you with a proposition” you announced, looking around you as some guests passed by causing your words to come to a halt. Yoongi stood in silence, awaiting the words he knew were soon to come. “I want to make an alliance with you,” you continued, once you were alone. “We both have something to gain from their downfall, why don't we help each other?”

Yoongi’s eyes traveled down to his shoes; he took a drink from the whiskey in his hand as he thought over what you had just said. Yoongi wasn’t someone who needed allies, he was sure he could do bad all on his own but having his enemy's wife make such an offer made him reconsider.

“And what makes you think you can trust me?” he pondered, looking back into your eyes. 

“I don't but it's a risk I'm willing to take if it means I get to be free” you responded without a hitch in your voice. Yoongi nodded, his eyes trailing to the side “I have to congratulate you Mrs. Y/n, you make a compelling argument” he said, a smirk crawling to his lips. 

“I know” you nodded, confidently. “I know that you want this as much as me if not more and, in my opinion, it would be foolish to turn me down” he chuckled at your words, the eagerness that dripped in them reminding him of his own need for retribution. 

“What do you have in mind?” he asked, “I mean what is your plan to put an end to them?”

“That is a conversation for a later time, Mr. Min.” 

“Is that so?”

“First I need to ensure you are on my side,” you said. 

“I like you, you’re smart” he responded, and you smiled. 

“I am” you reassured him “which means I will not lead you to failure.” 

Yoongi stood silent for some time, pondering his decision. He was not used to making deals with strangers, much less entertain such conversations with one but something about you compelled him to break his own rules and your words urged him to agree. You spoke with honesty, something he was not used to in this business. He could see the resolve dripping from where you stood, and it frightened and stimulated him all at the same time. 

“So, what do you say?” You raised your eyebrows, becoming anxious with his silence.

“why not” he shrugged, staring into your eyes with a smirk.

He didn't understand what had come over him, what had compelled him to agree so easily. To trust you in the way he had now but he did, and it was done. There was no turning back, he was not the kind of man who turned on his words or decisions. If he was to be your ally, then that's exactly what you would get. 

“And to honor the beginning of our alliance, I am going to give you a piece of advice” he hummed, finishing the last of his drink. 

“Don't think for a second that I have not been plotting myself” he assured you, stepping closer to where you stood, the small intrusion causing your heart to skip a beat. “You will gain nothing from screaming in anger, ignorant people like the Jeon family will never listen” he whispered. 

“I could create chaos if I wanted to, wipe out half the people in this room, and leave the Jeon’s with nothing” he taunted, your eyes roamed his face, the chilled expression he wore demonstrating he meant every word he said. “Not everything deserves a reaction. If you are angry and humiliated let it breed inside of you because when the moment comes when you get to pull the trigger, it is the only thing that you will have, use it wisely.”

His eyes stared deeply into yours, assuring you comprehended what he said, and you did. You had failed at concealing your emotions, you had unraveled under the pressure of your emotions time and time again and to put the cherry on top you had threatened Jungkook in your very home. The only thing that had saved you was his willingness to underestimate you. 

“I know how vexating it can be to sit next to the people who have ruined your life, to put up a facade for those here who have trapped you and your family in an unbearable situation but never” his stare was sharp and filled with rage “never let them know your next move.”

He leaned in closer, and you could smell his cologne, the fresh and woody aroma causing you to close your eyes in infatuation. “If you are confident your plan will work, which I'm sure mine will” he emphasized “Then there's no need for you to combust” Yoongi concluded. 

He glanced over at your face, the expression of desire that remained there causing another smirk to appear on his lips. He noticed your lack of experience and he was aware that both of you were a means to an end for each other but if you were to be his ally, he needed you to be perfect. there was no room for error, he would turn you into the embodiment of revenge. 

“Play pretend for as long as you can” he pulled away, causing you to open your eyes and look into his eyes again. It’s as if you were in a trance and Yoongi was the snake guiding you through it. “If they want you to be a trophy wife then be a damn Oscar.”

“By the way” he added, reaching his hand to move a strand of your hair from your eyes, the action causing chills to rise on your skin.  “Your husband is approaching, and he does not look happy” he chuckled lowly as he took a step back, burying his hands in his pockets as he positioned himself back into his cool and poise persona. 

You cleared your throat and for a moment you could feel your cheeks heat up. You were sure it was caused by the way he was able to express himself, so confident in contrast to you. It caused something to erupt in your body, a nerving yet exciting feeling and you couldn't get enough. 

Never in a million years did you think you would be looking up to a man like Yoongi. There was still so much you didn't know about him but the longer you stood there, the more you understood him. He was willing to enter a room with people he knew loathed him and yet, was able to remain unphased, as if he was untouchable.

You still had so much to learn about this world and if Yoongi was willing to teach you then you were just as willing to learn.

“Wait how can I contact you again?” you asked urgently.

“don’t worry, ill find you” he grinned.

you heard quick and heavy footsteps approaching and your eyes remained locked with Yoongi’s as he gave you a knowing nod. You smirked as you gave use to his advice, the Y/n who would usually react or shift in uneasiness was no longer present. Instead, you remained calm and controlled.

“Hey,” Jungkook spoke as he arrived, wrapping his arm around your waist. You could immediately tell this was not the usual theatrical touch of affection he usually gave when in the public eye. No, this one was different, the way his hand clasped around your waist, tight but not tight enough to hurt you, almost as if he was claiming you.

His eyes pierced into Yoongi, and you couldn't decipher his stare. Was he angry? Jealous?

No, he was threatened. 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere” Jungkook huffed, planting a small kiss on the side of your head. You were taken back by the sudden showers of affection; he had demonstrated more warmth towards you tonight than he had the entire year you had been married. He was putting on his best show and it was ridiculous. You wanted to shove him across the room, but you held yourself together, mustering the biggest smile you could fabricate. 

Two could play this game.

“Oh, have you?” you asked, your eyes furrowing in confusion. “I've been here all this time, my love” You wanted to choke at the last words that fell from your lips, but you refrained, swallowing harshly. 

“I can see that '' Jungkook spoke bitterly, his eyes never leaving Yoongi. Yoongi held Jungkook's stare, a taunting smile playing on his lips. “I was just getting to know Mr. Min here, why on earth have you never introduced us?” you asked. 

You took note of Jungkook's discomfort as he took the tone of your voice. It was pitched and excited and he had never heard you sound so gleeful. his hand trembled against the fabric of your dress, and it caused a sense of joy to bubble within your gut. He was fuming and you loved every little second of it. 

“Mrs. Y/n is delightful” Yoongi spoke, his eyes meeting yours for a short moment then falling back on Jungkook. “Yes, I'm aware my wife is extraordinary” Jungkook hissed, making his distaste of the interaction known.

“I have some other guests I would like to introduce you to” he informed you, his stare only on you now. You looked up at him, holding onto a wide grin for dear life. Yoongi held back on a chuckle that threatened to rip through his chest as he watched you struggle to be passive, clearing his throat to grab your attention. 

“It was a pleasure, Mrs. Y/n” he smiled, a smile you knew held a secret only you two knew. “I hope to see you around more often,” he concluded. Yoongi reached for your hand and held it up to his lips, planting a small kiss on the skin there.

You could feel Jungkook’s glare burn into the both of you and a sudden wave of adrenaline came over you. Following this plan had never brought you such enjoyment, it had always been laborious and exhausting but now, you had found a new sense of pleasure.

Jungkook didn't bother to say any goodbyes, as he ripped you away from the spot in which you stood. His steps were rushed and heavy as he walked away, having you struggle to keep up. “Jungkook, could you please slow down?” You called after him but when he turned you noticed his angered eyes, pure rage pouring from his pores as he looked down at you. 

“Why were you speaking to him?” he almost yelled. You had never seen him like this, the man who you knew to be stoic had completely disappeared and in his place was now a man unable to contain his anger. The sight alone caused a thrilling rush within your chest and yes, maybe you were crazy, but you couldn't help but feel accomplished. 

“What's wrong?” you asked, innocently Tilting your head in fake confusion. He huffed, his eyes scanning the room before falling back on you. “Do you know who he is?” he asked, his steps coming to a complete stop. His cheeks were flushed, and his breathing had become labored leaving him unable to hide the absolute irritation flowing through his veins. 

“How would I know? I barely know anyone in this room” you spoke simply, a small smile hiding behind your puzzled stare. You were in complete awe at his sudden reaction and for a moment, all you desired was for someone to hand you a camera to capture this moment forever.  

You never wanted to forget it, the utter frustration that he now carried. It fed into your hunger, and you wanted more. 

“Never mind” he sighed “just don't speak to him again” he reached for your hand and held it in his, the skin of his palm red and warm against yours. the contact made you jolt, you weren’t accustomed to being constantly touched by him, it was more than rare, and you wondered why he felt so comfortable doing so.

Sure, the purpose of this evening was essentially to celebrate your one-year anniversary and you had expected the usual touch of affection but the way he was holding you, reaching for you it was not the act you were used to. He led you through the room, almost pulling you as he continued his fast pace. 

It was then that you understood that Jungkook had met his match, to him you were just a wailing spoiled brat, someone whom he didn’t think twice about underestimating but Yoongi, Yoongi was different. Jungkook was smart enough to not undervalue his opponent. Yoongi was powerful and influential just like him and that he couldn't ignore.

His touch was an act of declaration that you were his wife.

You knew it was not because he cared or wanted to protect whatever relationship it was you shared, it was entirely for his ego, but you didn’t care. You were fulfilled. you were just a step closer to your freedom and to say you were happy was an understatement. Nothing, not even Jungkook’s childish behavior could take that from you.

“Hey! There you are” the man who you came to know as Taehyung spoke from a small circle which Jungkook led you to. you rolled your eyes at the way he held you as if you were his possession. His hand tightly grasped yours as if you could slip away at any moment, but you didn’t protest, you remained silent and willing even if you wanted to pull away.

If you had learned anything tonight, it was that for your plan to work you needed to be tame. You would bow in obedience even if it made your skin crawl. Forgotten were the days you would unravel in anger and agony. The broken and weak woman who reflected in your mirror had ceased to exist.

Every move would be calculated, and above all else, you would wear the disguise of a loving wife. You needed to be in control, no longer would you beg for consideration or sympathy. You didn’t need those things anymore.

You smiled as you approached Jungkook’s friends, allowing him to stand beside you like the proud husband he pretended to be, his arm wrapping tightly around you once again.

“Hello everyone, I would like you to meet my wife” he announced, a small smile playing on his lips. It almost felt like he was showing off an expensive car or a new Rolex, the way they all stared at you as if you were an object. You offered a bright smile, your cheeks burning from the strain you were causing on them. 

“Y/n,” you said, separating from the title of just ‘wife’ and allowing yourself to feel less like an item and more like an actual human being. They all greeted you with a small wave and quick smiles except for Taehyung. His smile was radiant in contrast with the others who surrounded him, he focused his eyes on you almost as if he was drinking you whole.  

He appeared to glow amidst the dark and tense environment, his eyes expelling a certain genuineness that you couldn't quite put your finger on. “Kim Taehyung,” he said, his voice deep and smooth. He extended his hand which you took in yours, giving it a soft shake.

“It's great finally putting a face to the name” he chuckled which caused you to smile, a real smile. You felt at ease while you stood in front of him like you didn't have to pretend to be anything or anyone under his gaze and you noted how dangerous that was. He had a way of making you feel like you were the only one standing in the room with him.

“It’s a pleasure meeting you Mr. Kim” you replied. 

“Oh please, call me Taehyung” he smiled again “Those kinds of formalities make me feel suffocated” You laughed, a real laugh. “Jungkook here had you hidden away” he exclaimed, looking over at his best friend who stood in silence. Jungkook rolled his eyes and sighed. 

“You weren’t even here for the past year, Tae” Jungkook stated, a tone of annoyance and amusement in his voice. You furrowed your brows for a moment, opting to listen to their banter.

“It wasn’t even that long” Taehyung protested. They both chuckled and you realized it was the first time you had ever heard Jungkook genuinely laugh. He sounded like a kid with no worries, his laughter was carefree and contagious. Not one that taunted you or one that was used to conceal his emotions but a laugh that poured out of him because he truly felt like laughing and for a moment, it made you smile. 

“Yeah, you were only supposed to be gone for 3 months” Jungkook exclaimed which only caused Taehyung to laugh harder. “Come on, we all knew I wouldn't leave Paris in 3 months” Paris? For a year? You raised your brows, intrigued by the statement.

“Oh, I love Paris. I've been there a couple of times, was it business or pleasure?” you interrogated, ensuring you appeared interested but not enough to make anyone suspect of you. Taehyung grinned, winking in your direction. 

“Maybe a little bit of both” he replied, his answer was vague and left much to the imagination, you could tell he was withholding information underneath his charm. You were more than eager to know what drove him to spend an entire year in Paris. Was it illegal business? Was he trafficking guns or drugs? What role did he play in this business? 

You were consumed with curiosity, it was no secret that everyone here was active in the Jeon’s organization and in order for you to facilitate your plan you needed to know what roles they played, how big of an obstacle they would be to you.

“I miss it, I had so much fun while I was there” you encouraged him, begging him to bite into the bait you had set up. “Well, I didn't get to enjoy much of the city this time around, I mostly went to run an errand” he replied. An errand? What kind of errand? You nodded, attempting to piece together the details he shared. 

“Should we make our way to our table? The dinner will be starting soon” Jungkook interrupted, bringing you closer to his side. Your eye twitched for a moment, feeling a familiar sense of irritation nestling itself in your gut. Could he let you finish a fucking conversation? You wanted to push him off and ignore his comment but instead, you looked up at him with a smile. 

“Could we stay a bit longer?” you asked, unable to conceal some of your frustration within the question. “Yeah, come on man I would love to hear about Y/n’s time in Paris” Taehyung chuckled; you looked back at him.

“As I would yours” you responded, if only he knew.

“Uh I guess yeah” Jungkook responded, doubt in his tone but as you looked back to Taehyung to continue your investigation you heard the loud sound of glass clinging. Your eyes were adverted to the front of the room where Jungkook’s father stood, in his hand a butter knife and wine glass. 

“Welcome everyone, thank you for joining us” he spoke, and his voice caused goosebumps to rise from your skin. You hated everything about the man. His voice and his face, his arrogance and his lack of emotions. You weren't surprised Jungkook had turned out the way he did. Looking at his father was as if you were staring into the eyes of the devil himself. 

“I would like to ask for you to take your seats, as dinner will be starting soon” he instructed, quickly everyone followed his command, dispersing to separate areas in the room and taking their seats in their designated tables. you were stunned at the way he had controlled the room, everyone acquiescent to his instructions. No one who was presently here would ever question the man and it made you shudder.

Taehyung sighed in disappointment and pressed his lips together “well, it seems we will have to hold this conversation at a later moment.” You hummed in agreement and felt Jungkook remove his arm from your waist and take your hand in his. “It seems so” you spoke and even if you had tried, you couldn't remove the dismay that your voice carried. 

Both you and Jungkook said your goodbyes and he led you towards the table that sat in the middle of the room. It was much larger and decorated then the rest, it was visible this table had received the most attention which meant it was specially set up for the Jeon’s. He pulled out your chair whilst you stood beside him, but your eyes remained around the room, trying to find Ha-yoon. 

“Take a seat” he whispered into your ear. You snapped your neck to look at him, stunned at how close he had gotten, you cleared your throat and did as told, slipping into the chair. He stood silent for a moment, noticing how tractable you had become. he blinked in suspicion, this wasn’t you. you were impulsive and defiant, and the shift concerned him. He shook the thought away, maybe you were just putting on your best behavior for tonight. Right?

He took the seat besides you and quickly reached for the champagne glass that waited for him, filled to the top. He looked back to you a second time and noted how confident you appeared in your seat, he knew you hated these kinds of events but tonight, you appeared to be enjoying every bit of it. He looked away quickly, taking a drink from the glass whilst his mind raced with questions.

you scanned the room, trying to find Ha-yoon amongst the unfamiliar faces in the room. You had left her to fend for herself and you felt immense guilt. You had been too consumed with your own desire to even realize that you had left her alone in a room full of criminals. Your eyes landed onto the bar and finally found her face, a sigh of relief falling from your lips when you confirmed she was okay. She sat with a drink in her hand, her head thrown back as she laughed with one of the waiters. At least, she was having fun. You made a mental note to apologize later for your carelessness. 

“Would you look at the happy couple” you withdrew your attention from Ha-yoon and focused on the man and woman who approached the table. Jungkook stood up and placed down his glass of champagne before bowing in front of his parents. you abstained from rolling your eyes and instead, stood up as well. You mimicked Jungkook’s actions and took an unwilling bow. The man who now stood in front of you didn’t deserve your respect but if you were to pretend to be amicable then unfortunately it was what you needed to do.

Jungkook’s father reached forward and patted his son on the back with a small chuckle. “What an evening this has been” he commented which gained him a smile from Jungkook. You knew your husband was feeling elated from the rather dull action. As it was his life’s purpose to make his father proud and he would’ve stopped at nothing to make it happen. He followed every command his father gave, incapable of ever defying him.

“It has been, Y/n and I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for us” Jungkook stated, and you struggled to keep the odium from your eyes as you looked towards him. You weren’t thankful, in all honesty you thought all of this was just a circus act. You would’ve preferred to be set on fire in the middle of a desert than to be here Yet, instead of contradicting Jungkook you nodded and smiled pleasantly.

“Yes, thank you Mr. Jeon everything is so beautiful.”

“It was nothing, it’s the least I could do” he spoke confidently.

The least he could do?

You had a long list of things he should’ve done, perhaps like not giving your father money to launder.

You hummed and took your seat, unable to keep up the obsequious act any longer. A thank you from your lips was all that he would get and even that you considered to be extreme. You watched as they took their seats next to Jungkook.

You dazed off as you heard the two men converse next to you, not bothering to listen in to anything that was being said. You knew they wouldn’t hold any important conversations in this room, Jungkook’s father loved his discretion and if he were to talk about his business it wouldn’t be in a place just anyone could hear. 

How you would adore being a fly on the wall in his office, though. 

“Hello everyone” you recognized the soft voice that floated in the air, it was the same voice that would calm you down from a tantrum, the same voice that sang to you at night when you were a child. a tightness soon formed in your heart as anxiety gripped you from all sides. Your eyes lifted from the piece of paper before you and in front of you stood your parents. You knew they would be in attendance, but seeing them now, within reach caused a wave of emotions to come crashing inside of you.

They looked elegant, your father wearing a black suit and your mother a beautiful red gown, you noted how content they appeared. Of course, how could they not as they took their seats besides you, unaware of their daughters' sacrifice. You felt yourself shrink in your seat and your heart began to race in your chest. You wanted to run, to hold onto the little scraps of self-control you had left but you remained seated.

You couldn’t allow them to have this much affect on you, you couldn’t allow them to affect you at all.

“Y/n” your father spoke, a small smile laying on his face and for a moment, you wanted to reach forward to embrace him. to tell him how much you had missed him, to cry on his shoulder like you used to. It had been so long since you had seen them, and you had wanted it to remain this way, only then could you avoid feeling the way you did now. Cutting off contact was the only method you had to keep the last bit of your sanity, knowing that they had sold you off into a despicable family had put a strain in your relationship.

Even if they were oblivious to the truth.

“Father” you responded, lowering your gaze when you felt his eyes on you. You needed to hold your composure even if deep inside the only thing you wanted to be was his little girl again, even if all you wanted was for him to protect you. “Mother” you then said, you looked up into her eyes and she held your gaze.

Inside you were screaming for help, pleading for them to come save you.

“You look beautiful” she said, and you could hear the way she choked on the words, tears beginning to form within the eyes that were similar to yours. “As do you” you responded formally, holding back on the whimper that sat on your tongue. 

The night didn't feel as victorious anymore, instead you were now consumed by melancholy. You had never been able to understand what had led to this, you were a good daughter. The father that you knew would’ve never done this to you and the mother that nurtured you for so long would’ve never allowed it. nothing was more painful than grasping onto the version of who they used to be.

 Jungkook stared at you, hoping that for a moment you would crack. He could see the pain through your eyes, noticed your hands trembling underneath the table. Yet, to his disdain you kept your cool demeanor all while constraining your tears back.  

“I'm glad that we can come together like this, we should do this more often,” Jungkook's mother said which caused everyone to nod in agreement, everyone except for you of course. If it was up to you, you would never share the same room with these people again.

It was suffocating.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, how is marriage?” she added, and you knew the question was directed towards you and Jungkook. You fidgeted uncomfortably in your seat, eyes scanning the table for a moment. It was a cruel question, she couldn’t have been that oblivious to the situation, right? You would’ve been open to talk about the way your marriage had broken you, the way it had you feeling like you were at the edge of a precipice, but you knew it wasn’t the answer that she wanted. Before you could form a coherent answer, you were stopped by the sound of Jungkook’s voice. 

“It’s been great” he reached for your hand that laid on your lap under the table and covered it in his. Your eyes remained on your hands interlinked for a moment, unable to process what was happening. “I’ve never felt such harmony and happiness and it’s all thanks to my wife” he lied, looking over at you. You scoffed and chuckled as everyone smiled approvingly. Gleaming at the fraudulent marriage Jungkook spoke of. 

You didn't dare look at him, knowing that once you looked into his eyes you would be able to notice the way he feigned love and admiration. Did he ever get tired? Of pretending?

“Awe don't be shy Y/n” his mother said, taking your silence for diffidence. In reality you just couldn’t sustain such a lie, you weren’t good at it, at least not as good as Jungkook. Instead, you offered her a tight-lipped smile and removed your hand from Jungkook’s grasp, pretending to hold the menu with it. 

Jungkook’s father cleared his throat and held up his glass of champagne “I would like to make a toast to the union we have made, may we continue to prosper as a family” you could tell his words were a double-sided blade, it let you know that your lack of enthusiasm towards the topic hadn’t gone unnoticed and it made your skin crawl. You reached for your own glass and raised it as well, looking over at him and holding his gaze. 

While they toasted to the union of the family, you toasted for the destruction of it.

You sipped on the champagne, never breaking eye contact with the man who sat beside Jungkook, whilst his eyes held contempt, yours held anger and you both battled for dominance. Once the cool liquid passed your throat, you sighed in pleasure, a grin appearing upon your face. 

You reminded yourself of Yoongi’s words and nodded your head towards him respectfully, putting your champagne glass down. “May we continue to prosper, Mr. Jeon” you bit, and you noticed the way his smile fell. It appeared he was prepared to speak but once his lips parted and he began to form words, the waiters arrived, placing various assortments of food on the table. 

“Oh, this all looks magnificent!” your mother cheered, her voice causing you to withdraw your attention from Jungkook's father. You looked down at the delicious meals that had been prepared but you weren’t eager to break bread with anyone sitting at this table. Instead, you gulped down the rest of the champagne in your glass and signaled one of the waiters to bring you another.

“So…” your mother began with a small smile. “When are the grandbabies coming?” you swallowed harshly. The question was ridiculous. You knew that being a mother was not in the books for you, partly because you had to at least have sex to have a conceive a child and then because you wouldn’t dare bring a life into this mess. 

“Well uhm” Jungkook attempted to answer but the question appeared to be too much for him to handle. “We aren’t ready yet” you announced which caused the table to silence. You could see the disappointment fall upon the faces of both you and Jungkook’s parents at the answer.

“You have been married for a year; I think it’s the perfect time for you to give us a grandchild” Jungkook’s mother suggested. You picked up on the judgmental tone in which she spoke, her eyes glaring into you. Of course, you would be the one to blame for not providing an heir to solidify the unification of both families because who else was to blame, your husband? No, men weren’t blamed for these things. 

“I think she means we are busy, mom” Jungkook clarified, glancing over at you for a moment.

“I mean I understand you are running a business Jungkook, but your wife barely does anything besides go shopping and mingle with her friends during brunch!” The statement left you breathless. How fucking dare she? Everything you did was controlled by them, you wouldn’t be capable of doing anything if it wasn’t up to their standard, to their approval. You were blinded by the outrage ready to spill past your lips, snapping your eyes in her direction.

“don’t be so harsh on her” your mother spoke “though my daughter does not have a business to run she has single handedly gained your family popularity amongst all the elite inner circles, she’s a respected socialite.”

“That is true my dear, Y/n here has gained us popularity which will come in handy to us soon” Jungkook’s father spoke, grinning. You narrowed your eyes in his direction now, a puzzled expression on your face. How would you be of any help to him? if he thought for a second that you would partake in any of his illicit businesses then he was mistaken. Your father might have been an easy target, but you were far less gullible. You knew the kind of people they were, how they delt with their business and it was pure evil.

“How so?” Your father spoke, you took in the eagerness in his question, his willingness to collaborate with Mr. Jeon and you couldn’t avoid the distaste in your mouth. Regardless, you wanted to know the answer too. How would Mr. Jeon use you now, what was it that he needed from a housewife with influence.

“I wanted to hold back on sharing this but since we are here together now it will be far easier to announce the news” he spoke, looking over at Jungkook. “I plan to temporarily resign from my position as chairman of the Jeon company and allow passage for my son to take my place for the time being” you blinked quickly, taken back by his words. Something was off and you knew it and the outer shock written all over Jungkook’s face only further confirmed it.

“What do you mean dad?”  Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows while his father laughed, patting his son on the back. “I am sure you will do great managing the business whilst I’m gone” Jungkook nodded but you could see the apprehension loom over his head.

“Well, what will you be doing instead?” your mother asked this time “are you sick?” Jungkook’s father chuckled loudly, throwing his head back.

“God no” he answered “I’m in great shape which is why I’ve made this decision” he took a deep breath and sighed and this time his eyes fell on you.

“I will be announcing my campaign as governor soon and Y/n here could assist me with her influence, once I’m running it will be hard for me not to win when I have the popular vote” he sneered. You sat completely still, your mind racing with questions. Why would he want to run for governor? He had money, he had power, he ran a multi-billionaire illegal business and now all of a sudden, he wanted to get into politics. Why?

“Do I have your support, Y/n?” he asked and now all eyes were on you. you blinked trying to gather your thoughts. Your eyes searched the room for someone who would know exactly what to do with the predicament you were now facing but you were met with the same wave of unfamiliar faces.

You were sure you wouldn’t help this man in a million years, whatever it was that he was planning you were sure it wasn’t with the best of intentions, and you wanted nothing to do with it. You thought for a moment of how this would help you, but you couldn’t see anything beneficial about it, it was just the Jeon family finding new ways to trap you in their web. Once you found Yoongi, you realized his stare was already on you. You took a deep breath, and it only took him a moment to notice your panicked stare.

What would Yoongi do in this situation? What decision would he make?

Yoongi gave you a slight nod almost as if he knew what you were asking, you furrowed your brows in confusion and looked away, glancing back at Mr. Jeon who sat expectantly for your answer.

‘Never let them know your next move.’

Yoongi’s voice replayed in your mind as you pondered over your answer. you cleared your throat and forced a smile.

“Well of course Mr. Jeon, you have my full support.”

“attagirl” he cheered causing everyone sitting at the table to smile and cheer along with him.

“After my campaign is over, you can have all the babies you want!” he exclaimed like he was granting you permission and your father clapped in excitement. “It will be a fruitful year for sure” your father assured whilst everyone raised their glasses in celebration.

You remained still for a moment and then lifted your own glass.

you were going to ensure he never got what he wanted again, you would take everything away from both him and his son all while smiling sweetly in their face.

No more wins and no more success, and no goddamn grandkids.

-

𝐇𝐞𝐲 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬! 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝! 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 & 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮!

𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞

𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤/𝐝𝐦 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

© 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

@ane102,@thisartemisnevermisses,@jamlessstars,@cookysstuff,@gyeomibearr,@multiasf ,@lydinews,@vminkookgf,@chl0buggy, @peterstarkchrishiddleston , @koostrawberry , @jcrl99 , @coree730 , @melodiesforari , @taemond-in-the-ruff , @whoa-jo @jksusawife , @hoseoksluv89 , @piecesofapril11 , @coralmusicblaze , @junecat18 , @amiradumas , @mageprincess7 , @heartjiminie , @parkinglot-nights , @douknowbts , @str4gguk , @sarzkh31, @jjk970971

[jiminrings]

fail-safe (2)

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 8k

glimpse: yoongi got everything he ever wanted and you've heard nothing about it, so you're thankful.

alternatively, yoongi reminds you of home in more ways than one.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

[ a Lot of angst, brother's best friend AND single dad au, eventual fluff, a lot of yearning but For What, they reunite but at what cost rlly, jealousy, self-loathing, unrequited love (initial), deja vu but in the worst possible form, eventual redemption in the next parts ]

notes: i am So sorry for this .

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even reading ur thoughts in the tags give me life :) | series masterlist

FIVE YEARS LATER

The trip back home wasn’t as rough as Yoongi expected it to be.

Somehow, there’s a huge difference between sitting in economy seats versus first-class seats, even if they’re situated on the same aircraft. When he left, Yoongi was irritable (amongst other things) to keep bumping elbows with everyone else; now that he’s back, he almost misses the ruckus in the cabin that’s far too cramped for everyone who could afford it.

Yoongi used to hate people like himself — atleast the version that he is now. He hated bastards sitting upfront in seats that reclined all the way back and ate off plates instead of noisy, flimsy plastic containers. Back then, deep down to his very core, he wanted that lifestyle for himself. To become bigger and better than he could ever imagine for the life ahead of him was always the goal.

Now that he’s at the peak, maybe even being the peak himself, he feels weirdly homesick.

“You need to bundle up all the way, Haneul. They’re gonna scold me if you’re not covered from head to toe,” Yoongi playfully chides his son, the insecurity and nervousness underneath his tone flying right over his head. It’s not even that cold, but still, a huge part of Yoongi worries.

He worries everyday if he’s a good dad to his four-year old. He worries if he’s good enough to be a solo parent because after all, he’s the one who has main custody of Haneul anyway. He worries and worries, but there’s nothing quite like the trepidation he feels being back home with everyone who has ever known him prior to all this success, suddenly seeing him come home.

It should be the opposite way around, that’s what everyone says to him. Yoongi had been queasy the whole flight back home despite the flight being one of the smoothest trips he’s ever been on in his life. He’s nervous to be back where he had been born and raised and he doesn’t know what’s that supposed to mean, except for the fact that he has an inkling of what the weight in his chest pertains to.

He’s back because it’s your mother’s 60th birthday. He’s back because her and Namjoon had asked him to, and he obliged without even thinking about it. Yoongi had offered numerous times to throw a party for the woman who had practically raised him alongside his closest friend, and even if Namjoon had backed him up on the grand idea for such a large milestone, she said no. All she wanted was for everyone to be back home, and Yoongi couldn’t say no.

Neither could you.

Yoongi is not the most modest person alive, but he is at his humblest when he drives the long way home just to delay the inevitable. He’s happy to the point he could be sick. He can’t tell if it’s the joy or the anxiety in his chest that makes it tighten, almost unbearably so, that he makes Haneul reach up to his forehead to check if he has a fever.

Yoongi’s home.

Not Los Angeles home, and not New York home. Not his home with a closet that’s the size of his childhood house’s living room, and not his space with the big windows and concierge downstairs.

Yoongi’s home — where the streets are narrow and the stairs are creaky; where this time, it’s all of him and none of you.

.

.

.

Enduring is different than working.

You’ve realized that the two concepts are drastically different as soon as Yoongi left, leaving you to survive the remaining years of your degree before you had to face the reality that you had to work to the bone for the rest of your life if you wanted a shot at living an average, food-stocked-in-the-fridge kind of life.

You didn’t know anyone who was connected to someone of importance one way or another, your family had zero ties, and you graduated from a university that raised more eyebrows in confusion than it tilted heads in awe. Your degree does havehigh promises as far as everyone in your town was concerned — it does and it should be, if only you were born and raised in different circumstances.

There’s not one acclaimed and high-profit company that would ever accept the likes of you. You worked hard and even if there were no exchange student agreements and Latin honors to show for it, you really did. You gave your best to graduate with a degree you never really liked and was only forced upon you, all for the promise of a future. It didn’t matter if it was extremely good or bad — everyone else just said you had to have one.

Your misfortune is what it is. It’s empty and haunting and the two weeks you had spent in the city right after graduating is truly something you never want to relive.

In hindsight, gambling the rest of your pocket money on a bus fare in your last day of job-hunting in the city at the time was a stupid decision. It was impulsive and irresponsible and everything your family scolded you for, what Yoongi hated you for, but it ended up being the single best gamble you’ve ever made, even above entry-level lottery tickets.

The same circumstances that held you back from where you’re supposed to head ended up propelling you to somewhere far, far different. Your degree became completely irrelevant, and the fact that you had nobody of significance in the city– no person to pass malice and gossip onto— made you a manager.

It had been a gamble to go work for an unknown entertainment company, much more a sinking one. It was an insult to have busted your ass back in your hometown, studying and working at the same time, only to work professionally in the city for a field that you didn’t even study about.

Your fate is what it is. You’ve endured and worked hard enough to the point that you had finally lucked out. Being the manager of someone who had later turned out to become the biggest actor in the industry, even in Hollywood, became your biggest break up to date.

Your way back home feels like an embrace you’ve denied yourself for far too long. You’ve mainly stayed in Seoul apart from the several hundred times you had to come with Jungkook for filming outside of the country, yet you could only count on one hand the amount of times you came home without anyone telling you to.

Coming home had become foreign to you as much as leaving it had become familiar.

“I’m near, Joon,” you hum to your phone, taking a quick glance at the cake you’ve strapped to your front seat. “It’s only us, right?”

“Yeah. Just us.”

Maybe it’s your fault for changing what us meant throughout the past five years, but Namjoon’s definition never changed. Maybe it’s your fault for not clarifying what he meant when you’re still kilometers away, when you can still leave, but nonetheless, you were cornered.

Us meant what it used to be when you were a kid in your childhood home — when Yoongi was still in the picture and you didn’t hate him for it.

In the grand scheme of things, you realize that Yoongi was right — nothing valuable was left for him in your hometown anymore. He was as right as you were wrong every time he went on a monologue of how he thinks there’s no problem in him admitting that he’s full of envy. He had been right for being bitter that there’s people who have and get much more than him, more than what they deserve, by not even putting a fourth of the effort that he does.

In the same way that he was right, you were wrong for thinking each time that Yoongi would soon outgrow his ambitions and instead, see things for what they are. You were wrong for thinking Yoongi would stoop down to your page, much less ever think of it.

Yoongi was right for saying that his stomach’s made of steel, and you were wrong for trying to convince him otherwise. He’s always had the appetite for more, the digestion of whatever life throws at him coming easy. Yoongi can choke down the reality of leaving Namjoon, your brother, who’s been buddies with him even before they could talk. He could forgo the only brother figure he’s ever had in his life if it means making something of himself.

He doesn’t get constipated from the reality of no longer having the homemade meals your mother would make that the younger, more innocent, and less ambitious version of him would literally jumps fences for. In fact, Yoongi’s palate craved something more foreign and sophisticated; not familiar, hearty meals served in dinnerware dulled from years of routine.

His stomach doesn’t turn thinking about how the skyline he said he’d never get tired of, wouldn’t appear in his new side of the world. The little, unassuming, and far too comfortable version of him who used to chase sunrises with his bike as a child and chase sunsets with his car as a teenager, doesn’t feel like he’d be poisoned if he were to see the sunlight in a high-rise instead of a run-down pavement.

Yoongi’s right when he said he had a tolerance because he doesn’t even get heartburn when you cry for him to no longer leave. You’re not in the position to beg him to stay (and you probably never will be) because as you’ve come to realize, he would only stay for the big things.

The only thing that would anchor Min Yoongi into place and dissuade him from chasing more is by being the most. One would have to be extremely significant, even bigger than Namjoon’s brotherhood, your mother’s impact, and what your hometown has to offer. You can’t even hold a candle to the aforementioned.

In Yoongi’s grand plan that’s as big as the galaxy, you’re merely a speck of dust that had the luck of hovering around him. You realized it back then when you blew over and fought with him right before his flight; right when Yoongi was clutching his one-way ticket, right when one foot was already out of the door.

“But the future that you want is not easy, Yoongi!” you gritted through your teeth, the grip you had on his suitcase too visceral that it bends under the pressure. Yoongi snatches his luggage from you in a blink, nostrils flaring in annoyance.

“Of course you’d be the first to say that,” he seethed, eyes wild and unforgiving. He drills his finger into his temple, inching towards you with an anger he had never shown before. “You don’t work as hard as I do, Y/N! You always settle. You always go for mediocre. You never put your head into anything because you’re too immature for any of this shit!”

“I’m not immature, you asshole!”

“Yes you are, you dipshit!” Yoongi scoffed, throwing his head back. “You cave and you bend and you let the whole world fuck you over, then you come running to me whining. You don’t have a passion in life, Y/N! You’re begging me to stay in the same predicament that you’re in now, what’s not immature about that?”

“When you leave now and decide to come back one day, Yoongi,” you spat with resentment, the tears that pour down your cheeks no longer out of sadness but instead, out of promise. “Nothing will ever be the same.”

“Good,” Yoongi clipped, turning his back on you for the last time. “Good for me.”

In the grand scheme of things, you realize that when Yoongi left five years ago, he also took the large chunk of your soul that had been shaped over and over again the entire time that he stood by you. He’d gotten his hands on the security and contentment you used to take pride in, weaponizing them against you.

You’re unsure if you have to thank him for that, the uncertainty being on par with the insecurity you had felt when he left you with his truth.

When you visit your mother for her birthday and see Yoongi emerge from your childhood bedroom, hand-in-hand with a toddler that looks like an exact carbon copy of him, you’re unsure of what to do either.

You’re not hysterical in the same way you stood before him when you even considered ripping up his plane ticket, but on the other hand, Yoongi’s inconsolable in the way he flounders before you.

“Y/N,” he says breathless, the lump in his throat even bigger than the tiny fist that grips his hand. “I… I-I didn’t-…” Yoongi tries again, his mouth dry at your appearance. “You came home.”

“I’m only visiting,” you answer, the curt smile on your face that Yoongi recognizes to be the one you’d give to strangers making his blood run cold. “I don’t plan on staying.”

.

.

.

You’re numb if that’s the word for it.

Your chest buzzes emptily the same way your fingers clench around nothing. You look at everywhere and everyone but Yoongi and his son. It’s nauseating to even think that everyone’s eating dinner as if everything’s okay; what’s even more sickening is that somehow, you’re willing to settle for it.

Yoongi is your mom’s cross-stitch project of a teddy bear that she hung up in your room one day when you were in school that you never took off by the time you came home. He’s a dent at the corner of your gate that could’ve only been made by Namjoon when he was practicing his soccer skills. He’s a Snellen chart that nobody really uses, stuck to the side of the refrigerator that you walk past.

Yoongi’s here, there, and everywhere, but you don’t question it. He’s simply there in your orbit and even if he exists, you don’t follow up on him.

You stay quiet at the talks of the sleeping situation because it turns out that Yoongi’s family had long sold their house. You never knew that throughout the several times you came down to visit.

Frankly, you’re relieved to barely know anything about Yoongi these days.

“You and Haneul can take my room,” you half-heartedly offer, not because it’s Yoongi who tugs at your heartstrings and demands your pity, but his child instead. The two, three (?) year-old baby (read: you’re too hesitant to ask what his age is because if it’s anything higher, then that meant Yoongi had moved on earlier than you did) you didn’t even know existed because you’ve completely cut off Yoongi from your life and refused to listen to Namjoon every time he talked about him, will be sleeping in your room; it just happens that he’s with his dad.

Yoongi’s awed at your preposition but he’s even more worried. He can’t tell a single thought that’s going on behind your eyes nor a single hint behind your tone. You’re formal; neutral. You’re detached even when you utter Haneul’s name and gesture them to your bedroom as if he hasn’t spent years and years of his life in your home.

“Where will you sleep?” he furrows his brows, his hand that had been rubbing circles on Haneul’s back faltering.

He’s asking because he doesn’t know anything about you at this point. He can’t tell if it’s the indigestion he has from resisting to talk your ear off at the dining table (like he’s always did when you were young) because you barely even spoke to him, or if it’s the overwhelming feeling of being back home with everything feeling familiar but you — either way, Yoongi thinks he’s gonna be sick.

“I’ll sleep at my mom’s,” you purse your lips, leaving him at that.

Between the yearning, demanding looks you get from Yoongi, the nosy and concerned glances from Namjoon, and even the guilt that you get from keeping all of your emotions from your mom when you used to confide in her religiously when you were younger — you’re drained. The urge to wash off all your anxiety can’t be done in your childhood home’s small bathroom. You can’t with the faulty water heater (you have to keep one finger pressed on the button at all times to keep it running) because you can’t even cry in peace under the either scorching or freezing water.

You can’t evade everything by grabbing a drink from the fridge that runs loudly as if it’s excavating oil from underneath your floors. You can’t curl up on the couch that’s become worn with age because there’s dents of you and Yoongi, the only two people who had sat on it the most every late night for years on end. You can’t romanticize any of the things in your home that have brought you joy all your life at this point in time.

To sleep under the same roof with your mother and brother again after so long feels foreign. It’s a language you can perceive but can’t translate and the frustration that comes with it seeps into your bones. There must be some common ground between the three of you; it should be anything and everything. With Namjoon being a world-renowned football player and you being somewhat accomplished and decorated in your field, you’ve managed to retire your mom early.

The three of you are doing fine. Not one interaction in the past five years has ever felt this tense and unfamiliar, but if you could pick just the odd one out, the very reason why you feel like falling to the floor and crawling your way out of your own home because you feel like you don’t belong to it — it’s Yoongi.

You feel awkward in your own four walls, whereas Yoongi finds your nightlight that you keep tucked in your closet without breaking a sweat.

Namjoon tugs you right when you’re about to call it a day in your mom’s room, his hushed whispers taking you back to when he pleaded for you not to rat them out whenever he and Yoongi crashed at the couch drunk.

“Give them this,” he shoves the can of bug spray into your hands, your immediate reaction making him wrestle with you just to push you closer to your own bedroom.

“No, Joon. You give it.”

“Y/N, no. You give it,” he whines, purposely having given Yoongi extra sheets and blankets earlier without the bug spray so you’d have something to take to him.

“I don’t wanna see Yoongi,” you whisper, trying to pathetically regain your footing even if you know your attempts go futile against an athlete for a brother.

“You think I don’t know that?” he snarks, giving you one last shove with a stern finger. “We’re gonna talk about whatever the hell happened between you and him, but right now, you’re gonna offer him bug spray like the gracious hosts that we are!”

You crash too far to your door that it could be mistaken as a knock, making you hiss because you know you can’t retract it. You actually knock this time, being met with nothing but a quiet Yoongi behind your own door.

Even when he opens it fully, even when it’s your own room — you enter hesitantly.

Yoongi’s already made a home out of your room. He knew where your nightlight was, knew which good extension cord (that didn’t spark every time it shifted) to plug into the wall, and even knew where you kept the magazine that you had to wedge between your windows whenever they didn’t fully close.

“Namjoon told me to give you this,” you put your hand out, looking at everything but Yoongi. You could look at Haneul who’s sprawled in the middle of the bed, but it isn’t any different than looking at his dad himself.

Yoongi, on the other hand, can’t see anything but you. He feels like an intruder who just happened to know the confines of your life almost better than his own, holding bug spray and the remainder of whatever recognition you have left for him.

“Will we ever be alright?” he whispers, not for the sake of keeping Haneul asleep, but for the sake of his sanity. If he makes his voice any louder, he’ll spill all his grievances and question if he had ever meant anything to you.

“We’ve always been alright,” you smile tightly, wrapping your hands around your back.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he pleads, swallowing the lump in his throat. “When did you ever give me bug spray? When did you have to knock on my door, o-or when did you ever have to treat me like I’m some guest and not a huge part of your life?” Yoongi stumbles over his words, correcting himself with a huff. “Most of your life.”

The sarcasm that coats the last of his words makes you twitch, the clench in your jaw being unmistakeable. Yoongi almost forgot what you looked like whenever you argued with him — talked to him, even. “Why are you only bitching about this to me and not to Namjoon? He’s the one who told me to give you the bug spray.”

“This is not about the bug spray!”

“What is it about then? Is this, is this some sort of long-winded euphemism that involves bug spray? What is it Yoongi, are you gonna hound me for an essay about it?” you spit, exhaling heavily. Haneul twitches in his sleep from the corner of your eye. “You grew up and so did I.”

Yoongi flinches like you’ve shot him.

“Don’t do this to me, kid. Don’t do this to us.”

You flinch because anything is better than to have him dig up his old nickname for you as if he’s close; as if he’s still the Yoongi that you chased, as if you’re still the Y/N he looked out for.

“Don’t call me that.”

( ♡ )

Yoongi’s in the kitchen with your mom.

He looks domestic this way, hair tousled and pajamas loose. Even if you have unbridled internet access (courtesy of the high-speed package you split with Namjoon for your mom even if the most she does online is repost motivational quotes, reels of Namjoon and his team, and clips of Jungkook where you’re seen), you can’t muster the courage to search Yoongi’s name and what he’s made of himself.

You’re too scared to search up articles about his success as a producer because if you do, you’re terrified by the thought of accidentally clicking a link that leads you to a page of him and his ex-wife.

You’re too weak to search up the songs he’s had a hand in (that is if you hadn’t heard them before) because you fear that if you even listen for a single second, you might hear how perfect his life has been ever since he left behind everything that he’s ever known.

Even now, you’re too uneasy at the sight of him. He’s in your home and he looks like the version of himself that had never left. The Yoongi in front of you, sitting on your seat at the dining table and peeling tangerines with your mom, resembles the Yoongi that would top off your glass with water whenever you ate with him.

It’s as if you’ve always been in touch for the past five years; it’s as if Yoongi has never aged and you never drifted apart.

“You’re awake,” he remarks, greeting you first before your mom could even register your presence.

“You’re still here,” you reply, the exhale that leaves you making you deflate in reflection. Breakfast isn’t ready yet, but Yoongi’s already slid over a plate to you.

“There. Just how you like them.”

There’s tangerines with barely any pith on them, and iced tea that had more ice cubes in them than there are in the freezer.

Yoongi smiles at you like you’re the old you again; the one who is more forgiving, and the one who is more hopeful.

( ♡ )

If it wasn’t for your brother guilt-tripping you into joining the impromptu road trip, you never would have come.

You didn’t want to come with them in the first place because the very thought of hanging out with Namjoon and Yoongi like old times, this time with the addition of the latter’s son, was too close; too familial. The three already knew each other and had kept in touch and you’re the odd one out. You’re the only planet out of the system and once you’ve come to think of it, that bit of their galaxy never failed. Whether you were in it or not didn’t matter — atleast that’s what you thought.

Yoongi got everything he ever wanted and you’ve heard nothing about it.

You blocked his number and on every social media account he had to his name. Even with Namjoon as a prominent variable, you’re amazed to how you’ve heard little to nothing about Yoongi ever since he left your hometown. You still talked to your brother, of course, but there was an obvious difference to how your conversations went because none of them ever went to Yoongi.

You didn’t tell him to not talk about Yoongi at all. You didn’t instruct him to never utter a single word about his closest friend whom you also grew up with. You never told Namjoon anything concerning Yoongi and what unfolded between the two of you before you left, and yet, it’s almost as if he had already been in your mind and knew exactly what to do.

You’ve come to realize that the prospect of growing up never used to be in your cards. The whole concept of it sat at the very back of your mind, the only times you used to pay attention to it being whenever Yoongi picked at your brain.

You thought your world would have ended when you were 19. You didn’t think you would grow up and see past high school. You didn’t think you would finish college, much less pick a degree to pursue in the first place. You didn’t think of having a future — you didn’t think you’d be living it now in this way.

“Joon,” you mutter, voice barely being heard at the expanse of the balcony you’re in. It’s his balcony in his vacation house he barely stays in, overlooking the waves by the beach he isn’t even that fond of to begin with.

Yoongi and Haneul are already asleep, the father-son duo knocking out way ahead than everyone else. They stayed with the two of you in the balcony hours ago, the bug spray in both the adult and kid edition being proof of it.

Tonight, alone, felt different. It’s as if the younger version of you was gazing out to what was supposed to be your future, except neither the past nor present variant of you could have ever had it for yourself.

“Hm?” he hums, sipping the last of his drink while he’s sat at the far end. You know about each other’s presence, and while years ago, the two of you would’ve been giddy staying in a house as grand as this whilst drinking behind your mom’s back, you and Namjoon grew up. You didn’t fight or anything — you simply grew up and grew apart.

“I never said it before, but thank you,” you exhale, clenching Haneul’s towel as you try to warm your hands. You may have spent the better part of the day not even acknowledging his dad, but you did fawn over him like you would with any other child. “Thank you for not telling me a thing about Yoongi.”

“You’re welcome,” Namjoon finally speaks as soon as he grasps what you were talking about, the smile on his face only lasting for a second. “If it were up to me though, I would have told you everything.”

“Good thing it’s not up to you, hm?” you laugh uneasily, running your hand through your hair. You didn’t know how much you had to be grateful for until Yoongi came back and reminded you of how little you knew about him.

Namjoon breathlessly laughs, looking up at the sky to try and condense everything that has happened through his words before you leave again. “I would have told you that he confessed what happened that time you ran away from home a couple years back, and I beat his ass. We didn’t talk for like, I don’t know, three months? Even when I was still training in the US that time.”

Your lack of a reply is what makes him take notice, the stunned look you have on your face making him snort.

“What?” he questions, eyebrows furrowed as he throws a stray bottle cap at you. “Why are you so shocked? I love him like a brother, but you’re my actual sister,” he confides his loyalty to you, yet you don’t even have a second to express your awe before he opens his mouth again. “I would have told you that I became the best man at his wedding. Even mom was there.”

“You can stop telling me these things now.”

Namjoon exhales, already feeling deep in his chest that you’re gearing up to leave. He wants to get the last word in, not to prove himself, but to try and vindicate you and the quiet suffering you endured without telling anyone.

“I would have told you that Yoongi kept trying to come back to you.”

( ♡ )

Haneul wakes up before Yoongi does.

You’re confused for a second because the moment you hear the lightest footsteps that you ever could pad along the kitchen, you become completely disoriented. There’s a child that looks like Yoongi, wandering off to where you are.

For the briefest second, your heart drops because the whole situation resembles a vignette. In another lifetime, it could’ve been your child, your Haneul, waking up before his dad, trudging to the kitchen where you are is if you’re his mom.

He’s an observant kid, far too trusting unlike his dad who used to scold you to hell and back for even entertaining strangers that asked you for directions. He’s friendly to you; to someone Yoongi had introduced as appa’s close friend. There isn’t even a single hint in how he introduced you to Haneul that the two of you stopped being close. Yoongi didn’t leave the faintest indicator to him that you most probably hated his guts and would probably choose a lifetime where he hadn’t even been in your life at all.

Haneul is innocent to yours and Yoongi’s history and it’s going to stay that way. You don’t meant to change whatever he introduced you as because by the time your mom’s birthday week is over, or by the time Yoongi takes the hint and leaves your hometown again, you would be a fleeting persona in Haneul’s life.

You’re not his mom. You’re not anyone of significance to either him and his dad.

“Good morning,” he greets shyly, his diction telling of how just attentive Yoongi is as a dad. You mostly listened to whatever Namjoon told you last night anyway, tuning out the parts where he rounded to how Yoongi had been miserable not having any contact with you (you don’t believe that at all), and instead zeroing in on the large details that you’ve missed. “Auntie.”

You smile tightly, patting the empty seat beside to you to which he climbs effortlessly.

Haneul doesn’t know you, but you do know him. You know that his dad is a doting, slightly paranoid one whose current dilemma is whether or not enrolling him in kindergarten early or waiting for one more year. You know that Yoongi doesn’t want him to know about the existence of iPads for probably ever, so he spends almost every waking moment talking to him to the point that Haneul’s eloquent at speaking for his age. You also know that Namjoon’s his godfather, and that he had looked after him for a whole day by himself when Yoongi went to settle his divorce.

Haneul doesn’t know you, but you know his parents. You know Yoongi is his dad, and more importantly, that Hyewon is his mom — the same Hyewon who had been with him in your room before, and the same woman Yoongi shared his success with when he made it big.

“Hi,” you greet him softly, handing him his bottle for him to drink from. It’s a warm, domestic vignette for a split second. You’ve watched Yoongi far too many times at the corner of your eye to know where he gets the distilled water. “Why are you up already?”

“Uncle Joonie promised yesterday we can watch the sunrise together,” he says in between sips, letting you comb his hair into order unconsciously. You didn’t even think of it before your hand sweeps the strands scattered on his forehead, the hum you have at the back of your throat pausing when you realized what you’ve done.

“He’s still sleeping right now. He had uh, a long night,” you mutter, at a loss for a child-friendly alternative word for hangover. You keep your hands to yourself because you fear falling into the domesticity that isn’t yours to relax into; if you think about it for a second longer, you’d think that Haneul is yours and Yoongi is the final piece to your puzzle.

“Oh. But I, I wanna watch,” Haneul frowns, brows softly furrowed at your revelation. He’s not close to throwing a tantrum, but the upset expression on his face keeps tugging at your heart to cave.

“You can take your dad with you,” you offer, willing to knock on Yoongi’s door if it meant his son smiling again.

Haneul shakes his head at that, looking up at the ceiling as he recalls the events of last night before being tucked in. “Nuh-uh. Appa had a long night too. He just kept crying.”

A part of you wishes that Haneul didn’t speak so clearly.

“What?” you clarify, heart skipping a beat the more you replay his words in your head.

“Crying?” Haneul repeats, tilting his head as he tries to figure you out. He says it again for a third time as if you needed any clarification of the word and not because of your disbelief that his dad was capable of it. “Like this,” he adds, pretending to bawl with his hands wiping at his eyes.

The scene before you is your brief moment of reprieve, making you chuckle breathlessly as you try to regain your senses. Whether or not Haneul was sure of what he was saying, if Yoongi had cried, it’s most probably not because of anything that has to do with you.

“Oh. So that’s what it means. Thank you, Haneul,” you laugh lowly, patting him on the head until you retract your hand again in realization.

Haneul thinks nothing of your trepidation; he thinks nothing of the yearning behind your eyes, and thinks nothing of the tremble in your voice.

“Can we watch the sunrise together?” he asks, eyes looking up at you as if doing so would be the equivalent of hanging the stars up for him in the sky.

(Read: it probably is, and in another lifetime, or in the far-shot that it happens in this one, you’d do it if he asks you to do so.)

You want to ask Haneul why it’s you who he wants to accompany him, but you don’t. You can wake up either Yoongi and Namjoon to go with him instead, but you won’t.

In another lifetime, this would have been your son, your Haneul asking to watch the sunrise with you. There’s a Yoongi-shaped hole and a Haneul-shaped vacancy in your chest, but you don’t prod about it further.

You don’t question what’s happening, and maybe, just maybe, there’s a tiny part of you that wants to fully accept it instead of hesitating to do so.

“Okay.”

Haneul puts his hand in yours, but you don’t pull away. You just hold him tighter.

( ♡ )

A large part of you forgot that for as long as Yoongi’s here, he’ll treat every interaction you have with Namjoon as an open invitation for him. He had always been this way; for as long as you could remember, he’ll include himself even if he isn’t needed nor wanted.

You can’t count the amount of times your mom had berated Namjoon for something and oddly enough, Yoongi also happened to be there. Whether it was to rat out on his own best friend or being at the receiving end of said scolding, Yoongi jumped at every opportunity to come along as a package deal.

When you asked Namjoon to drink with you at the balcony two days ago, Yoongi butted in and asked what brand of alcohol he should buy you at the convenience store. When you were on the way home and asked your brother what he wanted from the rest stop, Yoongi said he wanted the biggest can of coffee you could find.

And when you asked Namjoon what time you should come to the stadium to watch him practice, Yoongi said he’ll pack you an extra cap while Haneul bonded with your mom.

Sometime long ago, you and Yoongi saw each other eye to eye. You can’t determine when and how exactly, but there was a point in your life where everything you had to say to each other was what the other was thinking all along. Nowadays, you can’t even look at Yoongi in the eye while all he wanted was for you to return his gaze.

If there’s just one thing though, one single variable that remained unchanged between the two of you, it would be Namjoon.

The way Yoongi engages you in conversation this time around is not to trap you and to ramp himself up to apologize again, but purely, it’s to talk about your brother. Namjoon’s a lot of things, and one thing you pray would remain unchanged is the love you have for each other.

“Who would have thought, right?” Yoongi nudges, asking you sincerely. “Who would have thought that the Namjoon who had knockoff cleats years ago would become this world-famous athlete?” he chuckles, shaking his head as he once again tries to digest the fact that this very stadium in your hometown had been built and refashioned in his honor.

You laugh genuinely, the sound being the first he’s ever heard in such a long time.

“Abibas.”

Yoongi has his lips parted, shocked that you were even answering him.

“Abibas. That was the brand of his knockoff cleats,” you chuckle, bowing your head as you try to contain your laughter. “He could’ve bought the original with his allowance and everything, but he split it so he could also buy me knockoffs.”

Yoongi laughs at the memory you jog up in his mind, remembering distinctly how Namjoon kept asking for his opinion repeatedly on which colorway of the knockoff pair he should gift you.

Even if things are still tense between you, even if Namjoon is the only salvation that Yoongi could bring up in a conversation to which you don’t run from, nothing from the past five years could ever take this moment away from you.

The three of you have grown up. Some faster than they’d like, and some because they had no choice but to — nonetheless, in this moment, it’s the three of you back at home like it used to be.

“Namjoon was always meant for greatness. Even from the start,” you murmur, your attention waiting on Yoongi’s response even if your eyes were on Namjoon in the field.

“You are too,” he interjects quickly, voice defensive at the lack of your name to your own sentence.

“No I’m not,” you snort, crossing your arms. You’re not angry when you say it; in fact, you’re calm as if you’ve always seen it coming. “You told me I’d amount to nothing.”

You’re calm, seemingly at peace with what you just said and what Yoongi had ingrained in your head before, but he’s the furthest thing from it. His mouth hangs open, chest tightening impossibly as he shakes his head eagerly.

“I never said that!”

You’re about to counter him when you hear a familiar holler reach you at the lower section of the bleachers, eyes perking to see a familiar figure who isn’t blood-related to you.

“Y/N!” Jimin runs up to you faster than to whenever he passes the ball to Namjoon, engulfing you in a massive hug that forces you up to your feet before you know it.

“Oh my god, Jimin! I didn’t know you were gonna be here!” you awe at the sight of him, unwilling to break away from the embrace until he does so. It’s been ages since you’ve seen him, the second-best player in the team (you’re biased because of course Namjoon had been the best player to you since you were kids) being the closest member to you out of everyone.

Jimin doesn’t care for Yoongi. He knows of the guy and he doesn’t want to know any more than he already does. He doesn’t even acknowledge the guy’s presence; all he does is squeeze you tighter and twirl you briefly in his arms.

“Fuck, me neither. Heaven must’ve healed my ankle quicker so I could come here and see you,” he flirts playfully, earning a well-deserved eye roll from you.

“And you know, play for Korea.”

“Eh. That too, I guess,” he shrugs, sitting at the seat beside you. He looks straight at you and only you — Jimin only pauses to snort to himself when he notices that Yoongi’s squirming in his seat, beyond annoyed and frustrated.

( ♡ )

On the fifth day of Yoongi staying over at your house, there’s a power outage.

The sound of everything shutting off together in sync makes you jolt, the collective groan you hear outside from the neighborhood comforting you in solidarity.

You can only make out a grunt from Namjoon and a gasp from your mom until you hear the trembling voice of Haneul, the sound of a cry that crawls up his throat putting everyone on their feet.

“Oh baby, it’s okay, it’s okay! It’s just a little dark, that’s all,” Yoongi pipes up instantly, scooping him up in his arms without having to fumble for where he is because he could practically locate his son in his sleep.

You didn’t want for it to be a power outage, but oddly enough, you feel sorry that it happened while you’re here. “It’s okay, Haneul,” you whisper as consolation, the dark of the night shielding you from how Yoongi’s eyes widen at your cooing for his son. “Mom, where did you put that generator I got you?”

“About that,” she sheepishly shrugs, turning on her phone to illuminate her shyness. “I donated it last year to the public school nearby.”

“It’s gonna get so hot,” Namjoon groans, the sound of him clumsily feeling around for the lights alerting Haneul briefly. He comforts him instantly, finally turning on the torch in his phone instead of relying on his instincts. “Don’t cry, Haneul, alright? Uncle Joonie’s gonna get the candles and the flashlights.”

“I’ll go try to find a guy,” you get up as soon as Namjoon hands you a flashlight, your contribution to help instantly being shut down.

“You can’t just try to find a guy, Y/N. That’s dangerous,” Yoongi scoffs, putting a hand on your forearm to pull you.

“I meant on my phone, Yoongi,” you grit. “I was gonna go outside to try and look for a signal.”

“That’s still dangerous,” he narrows his eyes at you as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Give me a break,” you mutter, removing his hold from you. You’d save your pride and actually go outside if not for your mom interjecting that she knows an electrician from her contacts.

Namjoon comes back after his quest for battery-powered fans and flashlights, unaware of how Yoongi’s protective streak for you practically never disappeared; in fact, it came back twofold. “Whole neighborhood’s out. Must be a broken transformer or something.”

Your mom consoles Haneul in her arms.

Namjoon waits by the gate for the electrician.

You and Yoongi clean the fridge up before anything spoils.

In between getting food out and embracing Haneul every now and then who insisted on obediently sitting atop the counter so he’s closer to his dad, Yoongi holds your hand.

“That’s my hand that you’re holding,” you murmur, assuming that he had mistaken yours for Haneul’s as he’s always chuckled how yours always seemed to be small against his.

Yoongi only hums.

“I know.”

( ♡ )

You’re falling back into your old routine.

Maybe it’s how your mom has to shake you awake because otherwise, you’d sleep through the afternoon and would therefore be unable to sleep through the night. On the other hand, it could be Namjoon who either hounds you to hang out with him or tell you off for clinging to him too much.

Maybe, it’s just Yoongi. It’s him who’s tricking your brain into thinking that has nothing changed with the way he keeps peeling fruits for you and telling you to be safe even if you’re only buying ice cream from the convenience store.

It’s only been a week and a half of almost normalcy, save for the fact that there are certain things and connections you can neither reverse nor rekindle.

You’re convinced, almost fully convinced that history is repeating itself except for the bitter, ugly parts of it that you never want to pop in your head again.

Like the past, Namjoon blocks you for whatever reason in his head but this time he does it to you while you’re on the way to your room, on the quest to retrieve your charger for your phone that you barely even used for work purposes.

“It’s my room. Why can’t I go in my room?” you furrow your brows at him, your amusement turning into annoyance the more that Namjoon pushed you with actual strength instead of playfulness.

“Are you hungry? Let’s go out for dinner,” he changes the subject quickly, turning you towards the stairs.

You shouldn’t have questioned him further — you should’ve left it at that.

“I guess? I’ll just get my purse,” you concede, dodging his attempts to haul you downstairs.

“I’ll pay,” Namjoon insists and although it’s not out of the blue for him, his franticness is what keeps you on edge.

“I still need my-…” you counter, being interrupted when he holds you firmly as you attempt to walk towards your door. Namjoon grips you with a silent plead, one that you can’t even decipher. “What the fuck is going on with you?”

You finally break off his grip at once, walking into your room with a renowned determination.

It’s not only your routine that falls back into place, but it’s your whole worldview that does.

Love is terribly human. It’s a loose thread on your shirt that gets snagged on your doorknob. It’s a coat in your closet waiting to be worn for the supposed perfect time, and when you do, you realize that it no longer fits you.

Love is terribly human, and it is terribly Yoongi, Hyewon, and Haneul.

Love is terribly human and fragile, and it’s Yoongi, Hyewon, and their son sleeping on your bed.

[its-straykeedz]

silver lining; myg

pairing: min yoongi x afab!reader

established relationship!au; marriage!au; pregnancy!au

rating: fluff, smut, angst;

wc: 7,4 k

MINORS DNI!

TW: language; mentions of infertility; conceiving difficulty; mature contents; explicit sexual scene [but like sweet lovemaking]: piv, unprotected sex & cream🥧 (for a purpose), car seggs; heavy themes such as: mentions of an unplanned pregnancy, mentions of a miscarriage, mentions of abortion; Yoongi being so soft it breaks my poor little heart; mentions of a pregnancy scare; mentions of a teenage pregnancy; (please let me know if I forgot something)

Disclaimer: all of my works are entirely fictional and do not represent the characters involved in any way, I just write my fics for fun. 

There are a few Korean words in this fic, such as: jagiya, which is a gender-neutral pet name; appa, which means “dad”; eomma, which means “mom”; jal ja, which means “good night”.

Please keep in mind that English is not my first language, therefore feel free to correct me if you spot any mistakes or typos!

☔︎

“He’s so pretty…”, you murmur, holding little Jisung, Taehyung’s son, in your arms, gently rocking him, watching as his little eyes peacefully close as he falls asleep. “I want one…”, you whisper, gently caressing the baby’s soft hair. 

“I know you do, jagiya.”, Yoongi wraps his arm around your shoulder, gently pulling you close, careful not to wake the baby up. He places a soft kiss on your temple, as his hand caresses the skin of your bare shoulder. “I want one, too.”

You and Yoongi’ve been trying to get pregnant for years now. You’d started trying before he even proposed to you, and now you’ve been married for over two years and still nothing. It crushes Yoongi’s heart knowing that he still hasn’t been able to give you the thing you want the most: a family.  

“I think I’d be a great mom.”, he hears you sniffle, but you’re not looking at him. Instead, you’re looking at the baby in your arms, carefully wrapped in a sage green blanket, with a little pacifier with a bunny on it in his little mouth. 

“You will be the best mom in the world, jagiya.”, he places another kiss on your head, and he lingers a bit. “We just have to wait a little longer.”, he wants to reassure you that everything’s gonna be okay, that you’ll have the family you dream of, that you’ll finally welcome a child to the world, but he can’t. He can’t make a promise he’s not sure he can keep. 

“I love you so much, Yoongi.”, you whisper, leaning in to kiss him on the lips, but you’re interrupted by Jisung’s stirring, right before he bursts into a loud cry, and Taehyung immediately rushes towards to you, ready to pick his baby up and soothe him. 

☔︎

The sensation of Yoongi’s delicate, long fingers brushing against your soft skin is familiar to you, but it makes you shiver nonetheless. He caresses your breasts as he places a series of wet, sloppy kisses all over your neck and collar bone, squeezing one of your nipples between his index and thumb, earning a muffled moan from you in response. 

His hand sluggishly moves all over your waist and pelvis, until you feel him place his thumb on your clit, as he keeps thrusting in and out of you at an excruciatingly slow pace, repeatedly brushing over your g-spot with the tip of his dick. He starts moving it in a circular motion, and you let out a timid moan, which only encourages him to repeat the action again and again, until you’re a whimpering mess under him. 

“‘m about to cum, jagi…”, he groans in your ear.

“Me too…”, you pant, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with Yoongi kissing your neck and working your clit at the same time. “Please don’t stop.”, you whimper, encouraging him to go faster. 

“I love you so much, jagi…”, he lets out a groan as soon as he feels you  clench around him, and he finally cums inside you, before collapsing on your naked body, sweaty and exhausted. You run your hand though his soft, black hair, then place a tender kiss on his head resting on your bare chest. “I love you too, so much. So, so much, Yoongi…”

He notices that something’s off, by the way you shift uncomfortably under him and by the way your hand, the one that was caressing his hair, stops moving. He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, though, and simply lifts up and retrieves his body from between your thighs, before heading to the bathroom to grab you a towel to clean yourself from his cum, that’s slowly dripping out of you. 

Once he lays down next to you, in the darkness of your bedroom, and hugs your body close to his from behind, you can’t help but let a few tears slip from your eyes. You hope he doesn’t hear your muffled sniffles, but he does. He does, and tears well up in his eyes too, because he knows the exact reason why you’re crying and it kills him that he can’t take your pain away. 

He places soft, delicate kisses on your bare shoulder, but suddenly stops when you call his name. “Yoongi…”, your voice trembles as you fight back the tears. “Why don’t we just…”, you take a deep breath, not sure you even want to say it out loud. “Why don’t we just stop trying?”

Yoongi feels as if his heart just stopped beating once he hears those words come out of your mouth. What is he supposed to say? He knows he can’t make the situation any better, but it hurts him too, he just wishes you knew that. It hurts his heart the way he sees you crying on the bathroom floor with a pregnancy test in your hands, negative every damn time; he was heartbroken too when Taehyung’d given him and his friends the news that he was soon going to become a father. 

“Jagi…”, he intertwines his fingers with yours, his voice trembles as his lower lip quivers, signaling he’s about to cry, too. “Are you sure? Do you… do you want to give up?”

You bite your lower lip so hard you can almost taste blood in your mouth. The thought of giving up on having a family with the love of your life makes you feel weak, but at the same time, it’s just too much for you to handle right now. You and Yoongi have been together for many years, you’d started dating when you were in high school, and the moment you met him, you instantly knew he was the one. 

You’ve always wanted to become a mother someday. As for Yoongi, he never knew how much he wanted to become a husband and a father until the day he met you. You were both really, really young to even think about having kids or getting married, but it was nice to know that you were on the same page, at least. 

When you decided to finally start trying for a baby, you were twenty-three and he was twenty-four. Luckily, both you and Yoongi had already graduated and had stable and well payed jobs, plus you were already living together, so a baby would fit just perfect. 

But now, after nearly three years of trying… you’ve almost lost hope.

“I just don’t want to go through all this anymore… the hope I feel every time my period’s late and how it gets crushed the moment I take a pregnancy test and only one damn line shows up…”, you sigh, swallowing the lump in your throat, as you feel Yoongi’s body stiffen behind yours. “I don’t want to feel that kind of pain anymore, Yoongi, it breaks my heart.”

You feel something wet on your shoulder, and that’s how you realize that Yoongi’s crying as well. “Jagi…”, he murmurs, holding you even tighter than he already was. “I’m so sorry, jagiya, so, so sorry…”, he manages to say between sobs, “I want to give you the family we’ve been dreaming of, I want to give you the world…”

You try to turn your body so that you’re now facing him, but struggle a bit, since Yoongi’s holding you a bit too tight, but you somehow manage to do so. When you meet his eyes, you notice his cheeks are flooded with tears, his nose is a bit runny. You cup his face in your hands, brushing away a couple of dark locks from his eyes, then you place a soft, chaste kiss on his plump lips. 

“I love you so much, Yoongi…”, you kiss him again, wiping away some tears from his face. “You make me the happiest, it’s just… it gets too much sometimes, I feel like maybe we should take a break from trying, maybe we’re just stressing too much about it.”

He just nods with his head, and this time it’s him who kisses you softly. “Anything for you, jagiya.”

☔︎

Yoongi feels his legs shake and his head starts to spin as soon as he processes his friend’s words. “What?”, he blinks a few times, speechless, secretly hoping that maybe, just maybe, he misheard what Taehyung had said. 

“Yup, Jihyeon’s pregnant. A couple of months already.”, his friends repeats himself, with a big smile on his face. “Jisung’s gonna be a big brother.”

Again?, Yoongi thinks, immediately feeling bad afterwards, but he really can’t help it. Little Jisung’s only, like, nine months old and Taehyung’s girlfriend’s already pregnant again? 

He gulps hard, as he feels his palms become sweaty, and his thoughts go immediately to you. Yoongi knows that, if Taehyung’d decided to tell him and the boys the happy news, then his girlfriend Jihyeon probably told you and the other girlfriends already. Shit, he thinks, you’re probably going to be devastated. 

You’d decided to take a break from trying, yes, but Yoongi knows you like the back of his hands by now, and he knows that you’re probably breaking down inside. He wonders whether he should text you just to check up on you and see how you were doing, but he then decides not to, just in case Jihyeon didn’t tell you anything about the pregnancy. 

But she did. She announced her second pregnancy with the brightest smile you’d ever seen on her face, practically shoving her ultrasounds to you and the other girls’ faces.  The other girlfriends are all happily cheering and smiling and laughing and you can’t take it anymore. You feel like you’re the worst friend ever, but you really have to force yourself to smile, because it’s just too underwhelming. 

“I didn’t know you and Taehyung were trying again.”, Chaerin, Namjoon’s girlfriend, says to Jihyeon, wiggling her eyebrows and playfully elbowing her on the arm. 

“We weren’t.”, Jihyeon confesses, blushing a little, and your stomach drops, as your legs begin to shake. “We hadn’t been exactly… careful, so when my period was late we knew there might be a chance, you know?”

You can’t believe it, and you can’t help but feeling a bit angry. You and Yoongi’ve been literally trying for years, and the moment Jihyeon and Taehyung have unprotected sex once she gets pregnant with her second child? This must be one of God’s sick jokes, because seriously, what the fuck? 

When Yoongi comes home later that night, he finds you laying on your bed, still with your clothes on, and he can hear your sobs even from the doorstep, and his heart crashes into a million pieces, because he knows. He knows the reason why you’re so sad, and the worst thing is he can’t do anything to make the situation any better. He can’t take your pain away, as much as he wants to.

“Jagiya…”, he murmurs, sitting on the bed next to you. He places his soft hand on your cheek, caressing it with his long fingers, as he feels your hot tears on his skin. 

“I… Jihyeon’s…”, you can’t even get the words out of your mouth. 

“I know.”, Yoongi interrupts you, and you’re thankful for that, because even saying it out loud makes your heart ache even more. “I know, jagi, I know… I’m so sorry.”, he whispers, placing a warm kiss on your forehead.

“It was unplanned.”, you manage to say, taking a deep breath. “Why us, Yoongi? Why?”, your voice trembles. “We’ve been trying for years after… after…”, you can’t say it out loud, it hurts too much. 

And Yoongi knows, because as you speak those words he gulps and closes his eyes, letting the pain sink in at the thought of your miscarriage. His mind goes back to when the doctor told you that your baby didn’t make it, and it hurts him just like that day. 

You and Yoongi had decided not to tell anyone about your pregnancy. You’d just found out, plus it was too early to be announcing it to all of your friends and family, and you wanted to keep it just for yourselves for a little while. Until that morning, when you woke up to an unusual pain in your lower abdomen and an unexpected red stain on both your pajamas and bedsheets. And you just knew. 

Yoongi didn’t cry then, nor in your gynecologist’s studio when she confirmed your suspicions, because he knew he had to be strong for you, even though it was killing him. He cried in the shower though, when he was alone, where his tears got mixed up with the hot water drops falling on his face, hoping that it’ll somehow erase all the pain he was feeling. It didn’t. He didn’t feel any better, he doesn’t feel any better, he just learned how to live with the weight, instead of being crushed by it.

“I don’t know, jagiya…”, he lets out an hopeless sigh, fighting back his own tears. 

“It’s so unfair.”, you snap, not angry at Yoongi, but at your fate. “I want to be a mom, I want it so bad. And then she mentioned she thought about having an abortion, because the thought of having another kid so soon scared her, and I was dying inside.”, you sit up on the mattress, wiping away the dried tears on your face with the hem of your green sweater.  

“Yeah, Taehyung told me about it.”, he sighs, letting himself fall on the mattress on his bed, covering his tired face with both of his long, tapered hands. “But it’s not their fault. I mean, they don’t know about our… issue. It doesn’t make me feel better, though.”

“Jihyeon probably hates me.”, you mumble, and Yoongi removes his hands from his face to look at you with a confused look on his face. “I didn’t even want to see the ultrasounds. I just sat there, smiling awkwardly.” 

“Taehyung probably hates me, too, then.”, Yoongi comments, as he gets up and starts undressing only to change into his pajamas. “Didn’t wanna see them either. I was the only one.”, he says, unzipping his jeans, as you stare at his half-naked body, because he looks just so gorgeous. “I know it shouldn’t bother me because, as I said before, it’s not their fault, but it’s just so hard to pretend you’re happy when you’re actually not.”, you nod, watching him slip into his pajama pants, the ones you’d bought him last Christmas. “I mean, of course I’m happy for him-“

“I get it.”, you interrupt him. “I feel that way too. I thought that I was just being selfish, though, and I feel so guilty.”, you stand up too, removing your sweater to change into one of Yoongi’s t-shirts, one of your favorite to sleep in. 

You lay next to each other, body entangled in the soft cotton sheets, but with your eyes wide open, staring at the white ceiling. Yoongi’s fingers are intertwined with yours, but neither of you dares too speak, too absorbed in your thoughts. You just lay there, wide awake, in complete silence. 

“Yoongi?”, you break the silence, but you don’t turn to look at him, too scared that the eye-contact might stop you from asking him what’s on your mind. “Would you still love me? If I couldn’t have kids, I mean… Would you still wanna be with me?”, your voice quivers as you speak the last few words. 

“Jagiya.”, Yoongi sounds almost as if he’s scolding you. Little does he know that it’s your worst nightmare. You’re so scared that he’ll leave you if he finds out that you can’t give him the family he wants, that you won’t be carrying his children, that he’ll just leave you for another woman, one who can and will give him what you can’t. “I’ll love you no matter what. Forever. That’s what we promised to each other at the altar, and I do not intend to break that promise.”, his tone is serious, as if he’s almost offended by your question. “You’re the love of my life, jagiya.”

He hears you sniffle, and then he feels your body shift, until you hid your face in the crook of his neck, as he envelopes your body with his muscular arms, caressing your back to soothe you. “What if it’s me?”, he murmurs, his voice is so quiet you almost don’t catch what he says. 

“What if it’s you what?”

He gulps hard, his eyes become watery. “What if I can’t give you kids? What if I am the problem?”, you feel something wet fall on your hair, and that’s how you realize that he’s crying. “What if…”, he chokes, “What if you wake up one day and realize that you’re just wasting your time with me? That you could have everything you ever wanted with another man?”

You lift your body to meet Yoongi’s eyes, before placing your cold hand on his cheek, making him shiver at the sudden feeling. “Yoongi…”, you brush the tip of your nose against his, “You’re all I ever wanted.”

☔︎

“Oh my God, we’re… the worst babysitters ever.”, you say between moans, as you sink down on Yoongi’s lap once more, allowing him to go even deeper. 

You don’t know exactly how you and Yoongi ended up having sex in the backseats of his car, parked right in the path that runs along Taehyung and Jihyeon’s backyard. Thankfully, it’s dark outside and there’s no one around, otherwise you’d be screwed. Taehyung and Jihyeon had asked you and Yoongi to babysit little Jisung for the night so that they could enjoy some time for themselves. 

You were right about to open the car door and ring the bell, when Yoongi pulled you in for what was, in the beginning, a peck on the lips. It then turned into a heavy make out session, and now you’re on his lap, legs spread wide, his veiny hands squeezing your thighs in such an erotic way it makes you shiver. 

“Relax, jagi, we still got time. About ten minutes.”, he pants, eyes closed, as he bites his lower lip, focusing on how wet and soft you feel around him. “But I don’t know if I can last that long.”, he chuckles.

You let out a high pitched moan when he moves one of his hands from your thighs and places it on your exposed breasts, cupping one of your boobs, slightly pinching your nipple with his thumb and index, and you see him playfully smirk at you. “You’re so hot like this, jagiya.”, he grunts, snapping his hips up so that the tip of his dick roughly brushes against your g-spot, making you yelp once again. “I almost forgot how you feel around me.” he moans as he watches you bounce on top of him. 

You and Yoongi didn’t have sex at all the past month and a half. Sure, you did other things, such as foreplay or occasional dry humping, but ever since you’d suggested a break from… trying, you haven’t gone all the way until tonight, when you both gave in to lust like a couple of horny teenagers. 

“I’m gonna cum, jagi, are you close?”, Yoongi pants, his black hair is stuck on his sweaty face and it’s the hottest sight you’ve ever witnessed. 

You nod, “Yes, so close.” Yoongi moves his other hand so that his thumb would brush against your clit, but you stop him before he can touch your sensitive spot. “No, I-“, you gasp for air, “I think I can cum just like this.” 

Yoongi growls at the sound of your words, as he grips your hips, squeezing the flesh tight. “Fuck, you’re so hot. I’ve missed this so much, jagi, please cum on my dick, I’m so close.” As soon as he feels you clench and tighten around him, he squeezes his eyes shut, cussing under his breath. “Fuck, jagi, I’m close.”, he pants, “Lift yourself up, I’m about to cum.”, he bites his lip, gesturing for you to lift your body from his lap in case you didn’t want him to finish inside you. Instead, you pushed your body down, sinking onto him even more, so that his length fills you up completely. “Fuck, I’m-“, he’s cut off mid sentence by his breathtaking orgasm. 

You stay there, in the backseats, you on top of Yoongi, both of you desperately trying to catch your breaths. Your arms are around his body, and you rest your head on his chest, as he runs a hand though your long hair. You feel his cum slowly drip out of you as he softens inside you, good thing you always carry wet wipes in your bag wherever you go, otherwise you’d be screwed. 

“Get up, jagiya, we have to go now.”, Yoongi whispers in your ear. You hum in protest, but get up anyway, because you have a baby to babysit, otherwise you’d stay here with him, cuddled up to his chest, as he holds you tight. 

“I’m sorry…”, he mumbles, as he zips his jeans and fixes his hair, and you look at him confused. “Because I…, you know, came inside.”, he gestures, visibly embarrassed, his cheeks blushing a little. He’s so cute. 

“Why are you sorry?”

“Well, since you said you wanted to take a break from trying…”, he trails, but you get the point. “I wasn’t expecting… that,” he goes on “otherwise I’d have brought condoms or just, you know, finished somewhere else.”, he sounds guilty, and you hate that. 

“Yoongi, love, it’s okay. I wanted it, I liked it.”, you reassure him “The whole taking-a-break thing was just because it was just too much to handle back then. I just needed some time. It’s okay, I promise.”, you kiss him on the lips, hoping that it’ll wash away all the guilt he’s feeling, and somehow it does. 

“I love you.”, he places a soft peck on your lips. 

“I love you too.”, you giggle, brushing your nose against his, “Now let’s go, Min Yoongi, we got a baby to babysit.”

Kim Jisung is an utterly adorable baby. He’s got the prettiest little eyes, and the softest gummy cheeks you ever squished, plus he’s always super calm and quiet, you barely heard him cry since he was born, except for when he was hungry. Taehyung’s always manifested his love for kids, and it really was no surprise to you all when he and his girlfriend announced the pregnancy after just a couple of years of dating, since he always rambled on and on and on about wanting to be a father while he was still in his twenties -technically, he wasn’t even twenty-five when his girlfriend gave birth to Jisung, but whatever. 

Jisung sleeps quietly, as you and Yoongi watch him squeeze his favorite plushie in his tiny, adorable hands, and you can’t help but let out a sigh, that has Yoongi to quickly pull you into a hug from behind. “He’s just too cute.”, you smile at the precious baby boy, and you hear Yoongi hum in agreement. “He grew up so fast, though. It feels like yesterday when Taehyung called us, saying that Jihyeon was in labor.”

“Babies do grow up fast.”, he agrees with you. It’s kinda sad, though, isn’t it?”, Yoongi squeezes you tighter, eyes locked on sleeping Jisung. “They’re so cute, wish they could stay like this forever.”, he speaks as if he’s daydreaming -and he is.

“Bet you won’t be saying that when you’ll have to change, like, a million diapers per day.”, you and Yoongi jump at the sound of Taehyung’s voice. You’ve been too caught up in the moment to notice the rattling of the keys and the door opening. “But he is cute, I’ll give you that.”, he chuckles, placing the keys on the table, before helping Jihyeon, his fiancée, take off her coat. Her baby bump is showing already, and you wince at the sight, biting you cheek. 

Taehyung immediately goes to the crib where his baby is peacefully asleep, and caresses Jisung’s puffy cheeks with his fingers. Little Jisung stirs at the feeling of his father. “Hi buddy, I’m back.”, he whispers to his son, completely and utterly in love. 

“Tae, don’t wake him up.”, Jihyeon scolds him, getting closer to the crib as well, but watching her son from afar, not wanting to disturb his sleep any more. 

“But I missed him.”, Taehyung pouts, unable to keep his hands off his son. “It’s so hard to stay away from him.”

“Did Jisung give you a hard time?”, Jihyeon smiles at you and Yoongi as she sits on the couch, caressing her belly.

You and Yoongi both shake your heads no. “No, he’s an angel. He’s so cute.”, your heart aches a bit at the thought of having to leave him soon. 

“I wonder if baby number two is going to be so calm and peaceful, too.”, Jihyeon giggles, her hand still on her baby bump.  

You wonder how it feels, to have a life growing inside of you. You haven’t got to experience that yet, and when your miscarriage happened you were only four weeks pregnant, and there had been no significant changes in your body. 

“Sorry if we ruined your plans for the evening by asking you to babysit Jisung.”, Taehyung says, picking up his sleeping baby from the crib, before holding him closer to his body as little Jisung nuzzles into his chest, still not letting go of his plushie. “We didn’t know who else to ask.”, he kisses his son on the head. “Seokjin and Namjoon are out of town celebrating their hundredth anniversary or whatever, and Jungkook… well, I don’t trust him with my baby yet. He’s still a baby, for God’s sake.”, Taehyung jokes, making both you and Yoongi laugh.

“It was our pleasure.”, you reassure him. “We love Jisung, we had so much fun.”, there’s sadness in both your voice and your smile, Yoongi can feel it. 

“Are you sure? Thought you might wanted to be alone.”, Jihyeon insists, but you shake your head once more. 

“It’s fine, really. We really do enjoy spending time around Jisung. Plus Yoongi and I are alone 99% of the time anyway…”

Jihyeon and Taehyung quickly look at each other before looking away. Jihyeon clears her throat, “We just thought you were uncomfortable around babies?”, her voice comes out more like a question. 

You and Yoongi both gulp hard, visibly taken aback. You are definitely not ready for this conversation. You and Jihyeon are close, yes, but you have always been the type of person to keep her personal stuff… well, private. You don’t like to share too much about your life, especially when it’s about sensitive topics like this. 

Literally no one knows that you and Yoongi’ve been trying to have a baby. He’s close to Taehyung, he’s one of his best friends, but it’s not like they talk about these kind of things. 

“We’re not.”, Yoongi simply says, hoping that it’d change the topic. His words are followed by and awkward, unbearable silence, until he clears his throat before he speaks again, “It’s getting pretty late, we’ve got plans for lunch so we have to be up early, we better get off.”

☔︎

You feel like you could faint right there on the spot when Jungkook’s new girlfriend, who just turned nineteen, confesses to you that she’s late. Late late. Like, her period’s late. A couple of weeks, actually. She stares at you with her big, doe eyes, and she looks like she’s about to burst into tears. Thankfully, Jungkook’s in the other room with Yoongi and the rest of your friends, and you and her, Nara, are completely alone. 

“Have you…”, you clear your throat, clearly uncomfortable in this situation. Why did she decide to come to you? Sure, you and her are pretty close, and you almost look after as if you’re her big sister, but damn, that was quite straightforward. “Have you and Jungkook had unprotected sex?”, you ask, but deep down you already know the answer, otherwise she wouldn’t be in panic. 

She bites her lower lip, guilty, as she nods. “Yeah, but only a couple of times. We didn’t have any condoms and were too caught up in the moment to think straight. He didn’t finish inside, though.”, she tries to find a silver lining, but you know that it could’ve been enough. She could be pregnant. 

“You have to take a test.”, you tell her. “It could mean nothing though, my period’s late all the time, I should have had it three weeks ago” you shrug “But, you could also be pregnant. You have to take a test.”, you repeat. 

The thought of Nara being pregnant too makes you feel sick. It’s as if everybody else is living your dream and you are just… watching. 

“But please,” you sigh “don’t have unprotected sex again if you’re not ready for the consequences.” She nods in silence, knowing that you are right. You’re not really scolding her, you’re just looking out for her. Nara is young, too young to understand all the challenges that a teen pregnancy brings, and you wouldn’t want that for her. Especially because Jungkook and her’ve just started dating. 

“Unnie?”, she asks after a couple of minutes of complete silence. “You said your period is late, too.”, she starts explaining herself. “I actually bought two pregnancy test, just in case. Why don’t we take them together? You said you’re late, too. It’d help me release some tension.”, she pulls out two pregnancy tests from her bag.

☔︎

You can’t believe you’re actually peeing on a stick right now. You don’t even remember the last time you took a test, and surely you weren’t expecting to take one now, on a random Saturday night, while your boyfriend was just downstairs, laughing and drinking with his friends. 

Nara’s already taken her test, and placed it inside the box without looking at it -which is, in fact, the whole point of a pregnancy roulette-, so you do the exact same. You open the bathroom door to get Nara in, before closing and locking it to make sure no one disturbs you. 

“Should we take a look?”, she asks, panic in her voice. 

You nod, before taking both boxes in your hands, ready to pull out the tests and see the results. You just know you’re not pregnant, that’s why you’re not anxious or anything. Your period is always late, and this time it’s no exception. 

“I’m scared.” Nara’s voice trembles, and she sounds like she’s about to cry. 

You instantly pull her into a hug, and she finally lets a couple tears slip from her hazel eyes. “It’s okay, Nara.”, you pat her back. “It’s okay to be scared. I’m here. Breathe in, then breathe out”, you instruct her, hoping it’ll help her calm down a bit. “Whatever the tests shows, you’re not alone.”

She lets out a desperate whine. “What if I’m pregnant, though? My parents don’t even know I’m dating Jungkook, how am I going to explain a baby to them? What do I tell them?” 

“Nara, calm down. You don’t even know if you are pregnant. And if you are, then I’m sure you and Jungkook’ll figure it out together.”, you pull away to wipe away some tears from her face. “He likes you very much. He’s not a dick, I know he wouldn’t leave you alone if you were pregnant with his child.”

She nods, convinced by your words. “Okay.”, she swallows her own saliva. “You’re right, unnie, thank you.”

“Ready to look?”, you ask. 

She nods, before taking a deep breath. And you do too, even though you know you’re not pregnant. You can’t be. “Yeah, unnie. Let’s get this over with.”

You pull out the test from the box in one swift motion, before placing them on the sink, but they somehow slip and, when you recollect them, there’s absolutely no way you can tell which one’s yours. That’s when you accidentally look at the results.

Negative. 

You take a look at the other test. 

It’s positive. 

Fuck.

☔︎

Yoongi literally throws himself on the bed, and you glare at him because you just hate it when he sits on the bed without changing his clothes first, especially since you changed the sheets this morning. He decides to ignore the look you’re giving him, playfully pushing you, making you fall back on the mattress. “Don’t give me that look, jagiya, I had the shittiest day today, I deserve a good sleep.”, he smirks, but you frown. 

“What happened?”, you get closer to his warm body, nuzzling your face into his collarbone. 

“I don’t know,” he sighs “my boss stressed me a bit too much, I guess.”, he places a kiss on top of your head. But you know Yoongi like the back of your hands, and you know that something else is definitely bothering him, he’s just not the type to stress too much about work. You lift your head to look at him. “What?”, he asks, not looking into your eyes, which is something he always does when he’s trying to hide something from you. 

“Tell me what you are really upset about.”, you insist. 

“I already told you.”, he frowns. 

“Yoongi, sometimes you seem to forget we’ve been together for almost eight years. I know you.”, you tease him by playfully tickling his side, and he squirms under your touch. 

“It’s fine, jagi, it’s nothing.”

“Tell me.”

He takes a deep breath. “It’s just that Jungkook told me something, and I just can’t seem to get it out of my head.” You gulp hard at the sound of his words. You know what he’s talking about, but Yoongi doesn’t know that you know. 

“What is it?”, you hope he doesn’t sense the quiver in your voice, and he doesn’t. He’s too much inside his own head at the moment. 

“I don’t want to talk about it, it’s stupid.”, he mumbles under his breath. 

You sigh heavily. “Stop being so grumpy,” you playfully flick his head “tell me.”

“Fine.”, he gives up. He runs his hand through his hair, unsure whether he should even be telling you that. He doesn’t want to bring up the sensitive topic of pregnancy once again, but you’d find out soon anyways. “Jungkook told me Nara’s period is late.”, he blurts out, unable to look at you. “She hasn’t gone to the doctor yet, but Jungkook’s pretty positive she’s pregnant since they had unprotected sex this month.” 

“Oh.”

“I didn’t want to tell you, jagi, but I figured that she’s going to tell the girls and you’d find out anyways.”, he sounds guilty, and he immediately wraps his strong arms around you to comfort you. 

“Why are you upset, then?”, you ask, your voice is muffled by your face being pressed against his sweater. 

He lets out a long, heavy sigh, as he lets go of your body. “I don’t know, it’s just…”, his head falls back on the soft pillow under his head “The thought of Jungkook becoming a father… I don’t know, it makes me wish I was in his place.”

“You wish you’d gotten Nara pregnant?”, you joke, and he chuckles. 

“You know what I meant.”, he sighs. “I really can’t believe Jungkook’s going to be a father…”, he trails, covering his face with both of his hands out of frustration. 

You stay quiet for a couple of minutes, in complete silence, before you speak. “Jungkook’s not going to be a father, Yoongi.”, you take a deep breath, “You are.” 

Yoongi doesn’t say a thing. In fact, he doesn’t even move, he even stops breathing for a solid five seconds, before he sits up on the mattress and whispers an almost inaudible “What?”, and you already feel the tears starting to well up in your eyes as you get up from your shared king size bed and hurry to grab your purse. You then proceed to pull out a couple of pregnancy tests and a piece of paper Yoongi’s never seen before. 

“I took one of these the other night.”, you start, showing him the positive pregnancy sticks, placing them on top of the duvet cover, “It started as a joke, I really didn’t think I could actually be pregnant.” 

You tell him how Nara’d talked you into taking the test, and how only one of them showed two lines. You also tell him that, the next day, you’d bought two more pregnancy tests and took them first thing in the morning just to make sure, because you never know. You weren’t really expecting two pink lines to show up, and you tell him how you almost fainted right there on the spot. You also tell him that the next day, still shook, you went to the hospital to run some beta blood tests, that confirmed what the sticks’d been telling you all along. 

You are pregnant. And what shook you even more was finding out that you are eleven weeks pregnant. You had never missed your period during the past months, however you had to admit it wasn’t like the other times. There was much less blood, and it only lasted a couple of days. You didn’t think that it’d be spotting from implantation. 

“I didn’t go to the gynecologist, I wanted to tell you first. I want you there with me.” You don’t even realize you’ve been crying the whole time as you were telling Yoongi the whole story of how you found out you are soon going to welcome your baby to the world. 

Yoongi’s crying too. His beautiful, pale skin is soaked in tears as he sniffles and clears his runny nose with the hem of his sweater. “Jagi…”, he sobs, pulling you close for a hug. “Are you serious? Is this real? You’re not joking, are you? Please, please tell me you’re not joking.”, he chokes. He’s so scared you’ll tell him that it’s some kind of sick prank, but it is not. 

It’s all true. 

“It is, Yoongi. It’s real. We’re having a baby.”, you sob too, soaking his clothes with the tears that are falling from your eyes, but neither of you care. You’ve been waiting so long for this moment, and you don’t care about a damn sweater getting wet. 

“Lay down, jagiya, I want to hug you and our baby.”, he wipes some more tears from his beautiful, yet teary eyes. 

You nod, laying down, sinking in your soft mattress, and you soon feel Yoongi’s hands pull down your pajama pants just so that he could have better access to your, still pretty imperceptible, baby bump. You muffle your sobs in the sleeve of your sweater as you feel him place a series of light kisses on your belly, before pulling your pants back on, muttering a “That’ll keep you warm” to the baby in your tummy. 

He gets up only to change into some comfortable sweats and an oversized t-shirt, before returning to bed to lay next to you under the soft, vanilla scented sheets. He hugs you from behind, his warm hand drawing imaginary shapes on your belly. “I still can’t believe it, jagi, I’m so happy…”, he whispers, placing a kiss on your hair, “I’m going to be a dad.”, you can’t see him, but you know he’s probably smiling from ear to ear. 

“Yeah, you are.”, you turn your head to kiss him on the lips. “And you’ll be the best appa, Yoongi.” 

He stays quiet for a while, and you think that maybe he fell asleep, when he suddenly speaks again. “Wait, you said eleven weeks?”, he sounds like he’s thinking of something. You nod. “Jagiya… isn’t that when we… you know, in the car, before Taehyung’s house?”

Your eyes widen as you remember that night. Oops. Yup, that must definitely be the night you got pregnant, since you hadn’t had sex in the previous month. Even after that one time in your car, whenever you and Yoongi had sex he’d pull out last minute until you managed to convince him that you seriously were fine with him finishing inside -which took a while, surprisingly. So yeah, that night in the car has to be the night. 

“Oh my God, jagiya, I can’t believe we made our baby in the backseats of our car.”, Yoongi chuckles, and you laugh too because really, what are the odds? You’ve had unprotected sex for the last years and you get pregnant the one time you do it in your car? 

“Goodnight jagiya, sleep tight.”, Yoongi pulls you closer and kisses your cheek. He then slips one hand into your pajama pants to caress your belly. “Goodnight baby, sleep tight, appa loves you so much already.”

☔︎

Yoongi’s been extra affectionate since he found out he’s going to be a dad.

He asks you how you’re feeling at least ten times per hour, and when he’s not physically there with you, he texts you. It’s not only because he’s protective of you and your baby, but also because he wants to be even more involved in your pregnancy than he already is. He wants to know every little thing that’s happening in your life: every mood swings, every craving, every time you’re feeling nauseous, he just wants to know. He needs to know. 

When you went to the gynecologist to make sure you are indeed pregnant, he asked a million questions to your doctor. You believe you won’t ever forget how his eyes were glistening when the obgyn confirmed that your baby is perfectly healthy and your pregnancy’s not at risk. He’s genuinely so happy to finally be able to share all this happiness with you, the love of his life, the mother of his child. 

You both agreed you’d tell the news to your friends once you entered your second trimester, just to make sure everything was fine. The day you told them, they were all so happy and congratulated the both of you. 

Yoongi bursted into tears when the doctor told you you were expecting a girl. He’d been emotional for the whole day and kept his hand on your belly all the time, caressing your bump as he talked to his daughter, telling her how much he loved her already and how he couldn’t wait to meet her. 

“What do you think about Unmyeong?” Yoongi asks all of a sudden. 

You’re in bed, Yoongi’s arm is around you and his hand is on your belly. You’re almost at the end of your third trimester now, and you’ve definitely gotten bigger. Still, you and Yoongi haven’t chosen the perfect name for your baby girl. You both kind of want a unique name for her, a name that represents what you feel for her. 

“What?”, you ask him, confused. 

“Unmyeong.”, he repeats. “For our baby girl. It means destiny.”, he explains. 

You stay quiet for a while. Unmyeong. The more you think about it and repeat the name over and over in your head, the more you like it. Destiny.

“I think we were destined to have her, you know?” Yoongi murmurs, nuzzling against your back. “We went through a lot to have a family. But we’re here now, our baby girl’s due date’s in a couple of weeks, and I can’t help but think it’s the destiny that gifted us with her.”

His words make tears well up in your eyes, and you can’t help but believe he’s right. You were definitely destined to have her. After almost four years of negative pregnancy tests and desperate cries, you finally got what you’ve been praying for for so long. 

You turn your upper body to meet Yoongi’s eyes, and notice they’re glistening as well. “I like it. Unmyeong… I like it.”, you smile at him. 

“You do?” 

You nod, smiling at him. “It’s perfect. The perfect name for our perfect baby girl. Min Unmyeong.”

A couple of tears fall from Yoongi’s eyes when he hears the full name for the first time. It’s real, it’s all real, finally. You feel him move under the sheets until he rests his head on your stomach, careful not to hurt you in any way. 

“Hi Min Unmyeong. This is appa.”, you can’t stop the tears from streaming down your face as well. “I can’t wait to finally meet you, baby girl. I can’t wait for the three of us to be a family. I love you so much, baby girl. Now sleep tight and let your eomma rest well. Jal ja, baby girl.”

[mariabtsos]

Never Ending ||m.yg||

Description: wasn't Yoongi the one that was supposed to give you flowers for no reason?

Genre: One-shot, Yoongi x f!reader, established relationship, fluff, Yoongi is literally the sweetest man alive (wbk)

WARNINGS: None, this idea came after seeing this really sweet like reddit post, it will be at the end of this post.

Word Count: 2.6k+

Ever since coming back from service, BTS’ comeback preparations had been nonstop. It was almost like their debut days, they started early and ended late, whether they were practicing the choreography for a new song or recording their parts again, or getting back into recording RUN BTS.

You and Yoongi had seen very little of each other, working almost opposite schedules with a Saturday or Sunday off sprinkled in where you would mostly sleep and catch up on what you had going on so far, having those little moments made all the time you missed him worth it, you loved them, it was how you were able to build your relationship in the first place.

You and him met when your best friend practically begged for you to come with her to a double date. Yoongi was the one you were paired with, and you connected almost instantly. You had so much in common, more specifically your mutual love for music and the art behind it, you had small dates where he would take you to his small studio space, he'd told you he was a trainee, and that he was set to debut soon with the guy your friend was on a date with.

A year later, the guy your friend dated didn't debut, but Yoongi did, and that's when the small gestures started, you were at every music show that you could be at, bought every album, and went to every showcase or small gig you could afford. Yoongi showed his gratitude in small ways, he would get you a single rose, or a small cheap necklace, or if he wanted to really treat you he'd save up and take you to a nice restaurant. And as his success grew he was able to give you more, although he wasn't one for extravagant gifts, he always gave you something that made you feel special.

Even whilst he was serving, at the end of each week when he came home he'd bring you flowers and your favorite food, you had never felt more loved.

And now that he was back, you wanted to show him just as much gratitude. He was working so hard to make their first comeback grandiose, and even if he was exhausted, he'd spend his days off spending his time with you only sleeping if you were accompanying him.

You decided to do something simple, you found a flower shop that did the most beautiful arrangements and you called, setting something up that you imagined Yoongi would like; they even gave you the choice to add some fruits, and what better for your boyfriend than to give him the absolute love of his life, tangerines. You hoped this would help him relax a bit, and feel your support even if you didn’t see each other much.

“Okay guys, why don’t you take five, hmm?” Sungdeuk announced to the room, the seven men and their backup dancers immediately heading for water or laying flat on the floor, the latter was Yoongi’s case.

“I said it in 2013 and I’ll say it again, I was told we would only rap, not dance,” Yoongi’s breathing was heavy as he spoke, causing his hyung and Jungkook who were laying on the floor to laugh. “This is good for you hyungs, at your old age you need to exercise to keep your joints healthy,” the maknae giggled, followed by chuckles and laughter around the room from their members and some of the dancers.

“Yah!” Jin yelled as he smacked Jungkook in the back of the neck.

“Yoongi-ssi!” he sat up as he heard their manager’s voice from the practice room door, “come to my office please,” Yoongi nodded, carefully standing up from his spot on the floor, softly kicking Jungkook after he loudly announced he was in trouble.

Yoongi giggled at the the whole thing, his mind slowly making his way back to you, he didn’t have to record anything today, maybe he’d go to his studio later and call you, yeah, that’s what he would do, they were told they wouldn’t be here till midnight today, and that they could sleep in tomorrow before they had to do some photoshoots for their upcoming album, so that meant he could get home before you did and make you dinner. You worked as a nurse, and unfortunately had been assigned 12-hour shifts the past couple of months; going into work at noon and getting out at midnight, by the time you got home and ready for bed, Yoongi would arrive, exhausted, but he still would want to at least have small conversation, your relationship was built with communication, and he wasn’t one to disregard it.

He met the man at the door and followed him to the elevator, reaching the floor where the offices were, they made it to his quickly, where Yoongi’s eyes almost popped out of his sockets when he noticed a medium-sized vase with a beautiful arrangement of flowers and small basket of tangerines. A little white piece of paper stuck out in the middle of all the flowers, Yoongi opened and he smiled so wide.

From Yn, just because. I love you ♡

“As you can tell, they are for you,” the manager chuckled humorously, “you better not fuck it up with her Yoongi-ssi,” he said candidly.

“I haven’t fucked up in 10 years, I don’t plan on starting now,” he kept re-reading your note, he thought your handwriting was beautiful, even when you didn’t.

When he made it back to the practice room with his flowers and tangerines his members immediately started teasing him, especially Jungkook. “Look at our hyung with his flowers! And they say chivalry is dead,” he would say, “yeah hyung, I thought you’re the one that’s meant to get her flowers?” Taehyung added, grabbing him by shoulders and ruffling his hair.

“Yah! Stop it, Ynie is sweet for doing this, don’t see how Yoongi hyung’s face is about to split into two?” Namjoon pointed out smiling, his dimples showing proudly. 

They had lived together for 13 years after all, all Namjoon wanted was for his hyung to be happy, and the fact that you did that for him had his heart swelling with warmth. You were so good for Yoongi.

“I need you guys to talk me off of running to the jewelry store and getting her a ring,” the room went silent.

“You don’t have one already?!” Hobi piped up, smacking his shoulder, his good shoulder. Yoongi shook his head.

The guys look at each other, and then at Sungdeuk, “I don’t think no one’s going to talk you off of it Yoongi-ah, in fact, I think everyone should take the rest of the afternoon off,” he announced loudly, “you six, please help him set up,” he asked the other members who immediately pulled the cat-eyed man, grabbing all their stuff, including the flowers and tangerines, and headed out to prepare.

It was 8pm

They had made it to the jeweler just in time, they were lucky he owed Jimin a favor, otherwise Yoongi would’ve had to wait, and he sincerely didn’t think he could.

You guys had started talking more seriously about marriage about 5 years into your relationship, mainly because you had started to feel scared that with idol life, Yoongi would enjoy not being entirely tied down to a person. Thankfully that wasn't the case, and he'd promised you, when the time was right, he would get down on one knee.

He wasn't sure why it took him 10 years to come through with that promise.

Yoongi was grateful for your late nights of conversation after that, every so often you would have little YouTube marathons that would start with alcohol reviews and end in proposals, and he had remembered every comment you made about those rings, he’d also remembered the comments you’d made when one of your friends got engaged. He was able to find a beautiful ring, something he knew you’d like. His members helped get all the materials he needed, as they rushed to your shared apartment and started decorating the place, Yoongi and Jin cooked whilst the rest added finishing touches, at some point Jungkook went and got his camera, stating he’d be the one to stay so he could capture the moment.

Yoongi could complain about the maknae all he wanted, but there was no one as loyal and dedicated to his friends as him.

It was 11:30pm when they were finished, Jungkook and Yoongi were saying goodbye to the others as they made their way into the car they would have to share back to the HYBE building so they could get their own vehicles, they had all ran around in Yoongi’s car, a medium-sized SUV that barely fit all of them, but they managed.

“I call shotgun! I deserve it after going in hyung’s trunk,” Jimin ran after he had said his goodbyes, with Taehyung following closely behind as he whined about him getting shotgun, the rest walked away at a normal pace, not eager to deal with the soulmates and the game of rock-paper-scissors that they would certainly be playing.

Yoongi was pacing around, it was 12:48am now, you’d be home any minute now, Jungkook had hid behind the black sectional in your living room, thankful you had left some space between it and your wall due to the heating system. Yoongi started serving dinner, he’d kept it as warm as he could so that you could enjoy a warm meal before he asked what he believed to be one of the most important questions of your lives.

He heard the digital ping of you punching in the door code and he knew there was no backing out now.

You opened the door to find your house lit by small candles, your dining room table set up with your good plate set, and the flowers you had sent Yoongi as a centerpiece.

“Hi baby,” Yoongi smiled widely as approached you, kissing your lips softly, as if he was savoring you, “hey,” you sighed as he pulled away, as always he took your breath away, “did I miss an important day? Our anniversary has already passed, hasn't it?” you went through the different options nervously, and Yoongi could only chuckle at your silly concerns.

“No baby, I just wanted to thank you for the flowers,” he explained, taking your jacket off and grabbing your bag, putting them both away. You took off your shoes and slipped on your home one on, walking hand in hand with your boyfriend.

He pulled a chair out for you, you whispered a thank you and sat down; Yoongi left a kiss on your hair and went to sit down himself. He’d cooked your favorite meal, you both started eating, it was a comfortable silence at first, which you broke when Yoongi sat up to clean your dishes after you were both done. “How early did they let you all out for you to have pulled this off?” you asked him, supporting your chin on your fist as you watched him.

“Maybe…8:30?”

Your mouth dropped, he’d invested this much time to thank you for something so simple like flowers? You truly didn’t deserve him. Once he was done, he scrolled through his phone a bit, selecting one of the songs on the 3rd CD of Proof, he walked toward you and held out his hand, you recognized “Quotation Mark” almost immediately.

“We’re planning on making it a full group song,” Yoongi explained as he spun you around, making you giggle, how he wished to hear that sound forever.

And maybe, after tonight he would.

He danced around you, because truly they were planning on making it an OT7 song, and there was this bit of the choreo he had added for the purpose of what his plans were tonight. He truly hoped Jungkook was recording this, if you said yes like he hoped you would, he wanted to rewatch this every day until you were married, and eventually show it to your children. Here it came, the part that he’d be taking over once the song was done, the first half of Hobi’s rap was perfect for this. 

“...Today, I make sure to throw my heart to you first, a safe landing with you, the catcher,” He got down one knee, pulling out the small velvety box from his pocket, you hands immediately covering your nose and mouth in shock, your eyes filled with tears as the song went on, Yoongi had stopped after he found himself tearing up.

“I’ve always known you were the one for me, you’ve been with me when I was nobody and when success came, you kept me humble, you kept my feet on the ground whilst being one of my biggest support systems. I told you when the time came, I’d get down on one knee, and your kind gesture today was what tied it all together for me, I don’t care if people think it’s not that big of a deal, it was to me.” your chuckled mixed with your sobs, “I want to be able to hear you giggle every day, and selfish as it maybe, I want you to be mine forever, would you marry me, Ynie?” the words left his mouth miraculously, as he was fully sobbing now.

Did your small gesture truly lead him to such a big decision? To join your lives as one was something you had dreamed of for a while, hell recently you’d had a dream of yourself and Yoongi dancing in what felt like cloud, with a beautiful white dress and him in one of those suits that made him look like absolute prince, you could only assume you dreamt of your wedding day.

“Baby my heart’s about to fall out of my ass please say yes,” he chuckled nervously, bringing you out of your thoughts. Poor guy, he’s probably watching you watch him and he’s thinking the worst.

“I’d like nothing more,” you thought Yoongi’s face would split in two, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in for a tight hug “and I promise to send you pretty flowers and tangerines every chance I get, for the rest of our lives,” you whispered. Yoongi couldn’t help himself, pulling away slightly so he could give you the kiss of a lifetime, he knew how much you love his lips.

“She didn’t say no hyungs!” You heard Jungkook’s distinct giggle and muffled cheers.

“You FaceTimed them?!” Yoongi whined, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. His dongsaeng walked out of his hiding spot, camera in one hand phone on another hand, “I thought you were recording with it!”

“I was recording with my Samsung, you know when you post this video they’ll want to see that,” the younger rolled his eyes, bringing the camera over so you could see the pictures.

“I wish I wasn’t wearing scrubs for this,” you complained, thanking your lucky stars there was no puking or excess of blood spilled on you tonight.

“You could’ve worn a burlap sack and Yoongi hyung would still think you’re the most gorgeous person alive noona,” Jungkook laughed, causing your fiancé to blush intensely. And between the guys congratulating you and Yoongi actually putting the ring on your finger, it really hit you that he was now your fiancé, and that your biggest dream had come true.

Your life would have a never ending amount of love, laughter and chaos, and you wouldn’t want anything else when it came to Yoongi.

A/N:

Hello! Sorry this took so long to get to you! I had a plan for this and when I saw this particular like reddit story thing I just NEEDED to do it with Yoongi. I hope y'all like it!